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DOBELl COLLECTION 



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AN OLLA PODKIDA. 



AN OLLA PODRIDA 



BY 



CHARLES RAWLINGS, 



LONDON : 
PRINTED FOR PRIVATE CIRCULATION, 

1862. 






LONDON : 
BRADBURY AND EVANS, PRINTERS, WHITEFRIARS. 



205449 
'13 



DEDICATION. 



My kind Feiends. 

In presenting the following Odds and Ends, 
I hope it will not be thought egotistical in my so doing ; 
but having for some years, as the maggot bit (I am 
afraid to say, as the Muse inspired), dotted down these 
trifling effusions, it came across my mind, if I could add 
anything to the pleasure of my friends (not perhaps 
without a little sprinkling of vanity), it would afford a 
corresponding amount of satisfaction to myself. I 
should have been very chary in submitting these trifles 
to a public ordeal, because I have no doubt there are 
many defects which would not bear the test of criticism ; 
but in laying them before my friends, I shall escape, 
perhaps, the just scrutiny they deserve. Trusting to 
the anticipated effect they will have, allow me to 
remain 

Yours sincerely, 

Charles Rawlings. 



CONTENTS. 



A New Discovery 

The Chesterfield in Humble Life 

A small Yarn to an Old Messmate .... 

An Omnibus Scrimmage 

The Force of Affection 

Hook v. Horn 

Peter Snooks . -. 
J 

OSSIANIC 

A Victim to Abstinence ...... 

On the Queen riding over Chelsea Bridge and Toll 

being demanded ...... 



The Arch-Revilers may be outlawed by the Arch-Duke 27 



An Interesting Discovery ...... 

Reflection 

Madrigal.— "Flora is said to see," .... 

The Man in False Position 

Impromptu. — Written on reading the Account of the Great 
Floods in the South of France, November, 1840* , 



PAGE 

1 



8 

12 
14 
16 

21 
24 



26 



28 
31 
32 
33 

37 



viii CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

A Love Letter 38 

A Bacchanalian Song. — Written during the Trial of Queen 

Caroline 39 

Madrigalian 41 

Family Portraits 42 

Ellen of the Wear 45 

Apsley House 47 

In Eemembrance dear of a Pastrycook's Wife . . . 48 

Sly Cupid 49 

Circassian War-Song 51 

Dutch Clock-Makers 53 

The Exiled One 55 

eules and eegulations of the female chartists, com- 
MONLY called Servants 56 

Song. — " I love to dwell on friendship past " . . 59 

Lines. — " A man went out to swim " ..... 61 

Gratitude 62 

Impromptu on the Tracy Peerage 63 

The Disadvantage of Insuring your Life . . . . 64 

Parody. — " I courted once a lovely girl " .... 67 

A Trifling Mistake 71 

The Afflicted Man 75 

The last Threatened Invasion 78 

Phrenology 81 

The Old Bachelor 84 



CONTENTS. ix 

PAGE 

The Galvanic King . . . . . . . . 87 

Parody. — " I dreamt that I lay in a stable-loft " . . . . 90 

Old Nick's Peregrinations 92 

A New Discovery 98 

The Amorous Sexton 102 

A Glance at Vegetable Nature 105 

Passing Events, 1848 107 

Be Merry and Wise . . . . . . . . . Ill 

A Fact . ' .113 

The Man who never could Laugh 114 

The Forsaken 118 

Parody. — " In this old wig for many a year " . . . . 119 

The Country Maiden 121 

On the Death of Two Children by Drowning . . . 122 

Generosity 123 

The Happy Man 124 

Love and Gratitude 126 

A Simile 127 

Madrigal. — " Chlora is weeping " 128 

A Eomance . • . . . 129 

A Surprise Movement 132 

A Miser's Apology for saving Money 133 

The Letter Beggar's Petition 134 

"Written from a Yineyard in Mr. Poitre's Grounds, near 

Geneva, facing Mont Blanc, 7th September, 1844 . 136 

b 



x CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

TOETOLOGY 138 

A Fragment . . » . . . 142 

Billy Borue 143 

Pastoral Song . ... . . . . . . . 146 

The Missionary 147 

Perception 150 

The Civil Engineer . . . . • . . . .151 

Ketribution ... . . 155 

Friendship 157 

Union is Strength 160 

The Tender Kebuke 162 

Accidents and Offences 163 

Absence of Mind . . 164 

Those Sunny Hours 165 

Fancy Sketch 166 

An Acrostic . 168 

Dedicated to an Old Friend 169 

From Flora's Lap . . . . . . . . . 171 

Sincerity 172 

The Hen-peck'd Husband . . . . . . . 173 

The Warrior's Keturn . . : . . . .176 

A Wife by Advertisement 177 

The Flower Girl . . . . . . . . 180 

True Friendship 181 

Conscience 182 



CONTENTS. xi 

PAGE 

The Deceives 183 

Heaven's Gift, or Hush and Listen .• . . . 184 

Flora's Choice 185 

The Half Secret 186 

On the Murder of Mrs. Emsly, for which Mullins was 

executed 187 

An Auction not a Mock Auction 188 

Conundrum . . 189 

An ancient Mode of Embossing 190 

Madrigal. — " Damon suing gentle Phyllis " . . . . 191 

Rural Felicity . 192 

Furl thy Banner 193 

Madrigal. — " Strephon sued and Strepkon sigh'd " . .195 

On the East Indian Rebellion, 1857 196 

Quiddities 197 

A Chimney on Fire 198 

An Ill-XJsed Wife . 200 

Lubin and Mary 203 

Domestic Bliss 205 

The Secret of Life 206 



AN OLLA PODBIDA, 



A NEW DISCOVERY. 



I'm going to tell you all about 

The wonder that is just found out 

Of likeness taken by the sun, 

Which will afford you lots of fun. 

The portrait painter now may go, 

And fight against his country's foe ; 

Their avocation now is lost, 

At least until return of frost, — 

For when the sun can't show his head, 

They cannot get their daily bread. 

The bustle at the Polytechnic 

To be the first is quite electric ; 

Their face to have from photograph, 

So anxious all, t'would make you laugh, — 

Not one in three are like the person, 

Which angers them and makes them curse on 



A NEW DISCOVERY. 

The would-be likeness ; but the system 

Is not to blame that it has miss'd him. 

Just at the time the powers are on, 

His natural face is then quite gone ; 

From being vex'd at getting in, 

His face assumes an awful grin. 

The ladies manage this much better, 

And on their guard are to the letter, 

Put on their winning smiles and graces, 

And show they are sun-flowers by their faces. 

Their likeness to a T is taken : 

When shown it cannot be mistaken. 

A country's secret this should be, 

Which would set our finances free 

By paying off the nation's debt, 

And give us no more cause to fret. 

The pole-tax once, which proved a blot, 

And was opposed by famous Wat, 

Is so unlike the present measure, 

Instead of tax t'would prove a treasure, 

For it cannot be call'd a toll 

Altho' 'tis raised from the pole. 



THE CHESTERFIELD IN HUMBLE LIFE. 



Time — " Young Lobski." 



Come, take a lesson here by me, 

An emblem of sobriety ; 
If you follow the rules which I lay down, 

You'll be a model for all the town, 

Not only in drink but in chastity, 

And all things else which you shall see 

A mentor to you will be my aim, 
To guide you in the path of fame. 

I never drink but when I'm dry ; 

This happy medium you should try, 
Nor with tit-bits encourage drink, 

And make your nose a FalstafFs link. 

One quart a-day will do you'll find, 
To a temperate and a social mind, 

With a little spirits, say a gill, — 
You cannot say I use you ill. 



b2 



THE CHESTERFIELD IN HUMBLE LIFE. 

Get married soon, for that's the way 
To keep thee, lad, from going astray ; 

When once you're fix'd, the mind's at ease, 
And only you and your wife to please. 

In choosing a wife get one deform' d, — 

Ne'er look at her body if her mind's adorn'd 

If, like your father, to jealousy prone, 

It will take away from contention the bone. 

If she has one eye or nose askew, 

So much the better t'will be for you ; 

For the heartburn chalk you need not try, 
As jealousy then will be all my eye. 

Having form'd your mind for a married state, 
The next thing that will engross your pate— 

To know how to live in prudent bounds, 
When your income is only forty pounds. 

Take a lodging then at an eating-house, 
The sequel will prove you have some nous ; 

The bargain you get in the way of prog, 
That the saving will pay for all your grog. 

Then as for apparel, the dearest part, 

To keep up appearances must go smart : — 

Without being a Jew, buy left-off clothes, — 
Never mind the story about the crows. 



THE CHESTERFIELD IN HUMBLE LIFE. 

Never was such times for settling in life, 
Nor such inducements for taking a wife : 

If you have but a duck to lay by and dream, 
Cheap fowls may get that's hatch' d by steam. 

The way to keep your household small, 
In the family- way if your wife should fall, 

Never have them wean'd till they get their bread, 
It will certainly keep them from getting a-head„ 

In other things must judge for yourself. 

The plan laid down will save some pelf — 
With income small will make some show : 

From experience reap what others sow. 



A SMALL YARN TO AN OLD MESSMATE, 

FROM A "SAILOR'S JOURNAL." 



Dear Bill Buggins, 

Veil, I'm blest if I havint as pretty an account to 
give you as ever fel to the lot of a seafaring chap. Now, 
you must know, I'm not given much to storey tellin ; but 
havin had a cruse up the Chine Sees, depend upon't what 
I 'me goin to relate is all true as sure as I am riting this 
here, and vill make your hair curl vith astonishment. 
Ven we arrived at the Bogy, Jack Chinaman thote to 
friten us by paintin the sides of them are junks red and 
carryin a sword in each hand, makin the velkin ring agin 
vith there gongs. Didn't ve open a Brodeside, and no mis- 
take, it vould have dun your hart good to have seen the 
Celestials fly, they never stop'd to ask what o'clock it vas, 
tho time vas everything to them. Ve soon clapp'd a 
stoper on there forts, and show'd fiting was not there fort, 
After beatin them are gongs ve beat them, vich caus'd 
them soon to beat a retreat, arter vich our skipper invites 
the Empror to take a chop ; pretty cool arter given him 
such forc'd meat balls agin his will. There junks prov'd 



A SMALL YARN TO AN OLD MESSMATE. 7 

much more tender than vhat we have on board, the Broad- 
side valking into their sides like vinking ; tho they show'd 
there teeth they could not bite, so in return for our being 
sarcy, in course ve got some sicee, and I don't care how 
soon you and I, Bill, have just such another cruise — am 
sure you vould vastly enjoy it. 

From your old messmate, 

Jack Grim. 
Remember me to Nance. 



AN OMNIBUS SCRIMMAGE. 

Tune—" The Irish Wedding," 

To have a ride in a buss is my pride, 

The variety is so charming, ; 
I frequently go from Chelsea to Bow, — 

Each lady is my darling, O. 
Close by the door I take my place, 

All for to show my breeding, O, 
By sitting on the left I trace 

The married from the single, O. 

Ri tu ral lu, &c. 

I give each a hand, and they look so bland,- 

To the old ones I say, further, O ; 
And the young I soon for them make room 

To sit by the lady's darling, O. 
I then begin to talk about 

The day, whether wind or raining, O, 
And prove to each, without a doubt, 

That I'm the man for a lady, O. 

Ri tu ral lu, &c. 



AN OMNIBUS SCRIMMAGE. S 

A woman and child one day got in, 

To ride from the Strand to Sloane Street, O, 
The child was sick all over Dick — 

A friend of mine who was facing, 0. 
" Zounds, madam," he cried, " I pay dear for my ride, 

Your child has spoilt my waistcoat, O." • 
" I am sorry," she cried, " but it can't be denied, 

It might have spoilt your best coat, O." 
Ri tu ral lu, &c. 

" Will you tell him to stop ? " said a lady in green ; 

" He has gone beyond the turning, O." 
He pull'd up at once, she came down with a whop 

All among the mess made by the infant, 0. 
A passenger's dog soon found some prog 

Tuck'd under the seat so slily, O — 
Sheep's kidneys so nice, he munch'd up in a trice, 

Without butter or pepper to flavour them, O. 
Ri tu ral lu, &c. 

The man felt vex'd at the loss he'd sustain'd, 

So he throttled the dog without feeling, ; 
The owner of Bob sent a blow at his nob, 

Which sounded like a cracker, O. 
A policeman chanced to be inside, 

Who soon put a stop to the squabble, O, 
By taking them both to the station-house 

Before the inspector to answer, O. 

Ri tu ral lu, &c. 



10 AN OMNIBUS SCRIMMAGE. 

Two girls and their mother, with father and brother, 

Wish'd a bargain to make for their journey, 0, — 
" From the Man in the Moon," says Teddy O'Roon, 

" I will give half a crown without bother, 0." 
" Pull up," says the cad, to the coachman his dad, 

Who said the fare was too little, ; 
The party got in, but 'twas very soon seen 

They were all the worse for liquor, O. 
Hi tu ral lu, &c. 

A row began with the catsmeat man, 

A Welshman from Caerfilly, O, 
Who soon began with his ogles to scan 

The wife of Teddy, while sleeping, 0. 
He open'd his eyes, but what his surprise 

To find him kissing his darling, ; 
He set up such a howl, and exclaim' d, " By my sowl, 

Bad manners, you big blackguard, 0." 
Bi tu ral lu, &c. 

Teddy aim'd a blow at the Welshman so big, 

Who bobb'd his head to save it, ; 
Right through the glass like lightning it pass'd, 

And shiver'd it all to atoms, 0. 
The Welshman then gave him one for his nob, 

Which raised the ire of Biddy, O, 
Who burro w'd her claws right into his jaws, 

And made him roar out murder, 0. 

Bi tu ral lu, &c. 



AN" OMNIBUS SCE1MMAGE. 11 

The noise of the glass caused the buss to stop, 

And the cad to inquire " What's the matter, 0?" 
When, on opening the door, he saw on the floor 

The whole of his inside passengers, 0. 
Biddy's talons were fixed in the Welshman's hair, 

A battering-ram Teddy had made of his head ; 
The children were running pins into his calves, 

And forcing straw in his mouth till nearly dead. 
Ri tu ral lu, &c. 

To unloose from their grasp the poor boiler of meat, 

Was the work of some time and hubbub, O ; 
When on shaking their clothes, and a little composed, 

They all sober' d, and thought of their troubles, O. 
The knackerman own'd he was all in the wrong 

For kissing the wife of Teddy, O ; 
Teddy ask'd him to drink, slily tipp'd him a wink, 

And they were good friends for ever, O. 
Ri tu ral lu, &c. 



12 



THE FORCE OF AFFECTION. 



At a meeting of the Quizzical Society an interesting 
story was told by Professor Stump, of a case of extreme 
affection. " A friend of mine," the learned and facetious 
professor said, " was so exceedingly fond of his wife (as all 
good men ought to be), that every time she was in the 
way ladies wish to be who love their lords, he was a perfect 
martyr to the toothache, and as fast as she had children, 
did he in proportion lose his teeth ; but he suffered and 
was silent, poor man, happily thinking it was so much pain 
and trouble taken from her ; but an end must come to all 
things, and so it was with his teeth. Luckily his wife left 
off as it came to his last molar, not that she had less chil- 
dren than he grinders, for sometimes it took two to destroy 
one. As I said before, he had but one left, and that was a 
hollow one with a large round hole at the side ; unfortu- 
nately the last child died, which I think grieved him more 
than any trouble he had ever experienced. A thought came 
across him all of a sudden, knowing it could never ache 
more (as the last dear infant had destroyed the nerve) ; he 
would goto a jeweller's — for what, do you think? To order 



THE FOECE OF AFFECTION. 18 

a ring ? No. To have a motto engraved in an old one ? 
No, — but to have his tooth stopped with a box and glass, 
and plait of hair inserted in the side hole of his tooth, and 
a gold plate on the top engraved in memory of ' my children 
and my teeth.' " 



14 



HOOK v. HORN. 

Suit of Hook against Horn for the value of certain Bugle 
Trimmings supplied by the Plaintiff to the Defendant 
for the amount of £39 10s. 5d., which he demurred 
paying upon the ground of their not being the same 
quality as the sample sent. Tried before Judge 
Winks, or as a facetious counsellor used to call him, 
Forty Winks, from his propensity of shutting his 
eyes : whether he really did nap now and then, shut 
them to think, or preserve them, is a matter of con- 
jecture ; but I should be inclined to infer the former, 
from the long-winded orations of some of the gentle- 
men at the Bar, which I should say three-fourths have 
nothing to do with the law of the case, but merely a 
display of forensic eloquence to catch new clients. 
The counsellor for the plaintiff was named Crook, the 
one for defendant was Quibble. The plaintiff's counsel 
began by stating this to be an action brought by his 
client to recover the sum of £39 10s. 5d. for goods 
furnished to the defendant according to order, the plea 
of defendant against the payment of this just debt 



HOOK v. HORN. 15 

was that the articles furnished were not of the same 
quality as the samples, which I am prepared to prove 
were out of the same lot. The first witness called was 
Solomon Sly. "You are the plaintiff's clerk?" "Yes." 
"Were the bugles sent to defendant from the same 
parcel as the sample shown V " They were." " How 
do you know that ? " " Because I sent them myself, 
and could not possibly be wrong." Examined by 
defendant's counsel. " Now, Mr. Sly, you seem very 
positive about this matter ; have the goodness to tell 
his Lordship and the gentlemen of the jury what 
colour these bugles were." "Blue." " You may go 
down now; I shall be able to prove they were black." 
The plaintiff's case being closed, the defendant's 
counsel contented himself with calling one witness, 
who swore the lot sent in were damaged goods unlike 
the sample then produced; and moreover, the witness 
Sly swore they were blue when the sample proved 
they were black. The Judge desired the witness Sly 
should not be allowed to depart, as he had partly 
made up his mind to commit him for perjury ; but it 
was afterwards satisfactorily proved to his Lordship, 
the unfortunate Sly had forgot to take off his spectacles, 
which were blue, and as he was never seen without 
them from morning to night, the excuse was con- 
sidered reasonable. 
Verdict for plaintiff. 



16 



PETER SNOOKS. 

Tune — "Miss Baily." 

Peter Snooks he took a house 

Next door to Biddy Bridget, 

He as quiet as a mouse, 

She a termagant and fidget. 

He found out to his cost 

The troubles that were brewing, 

Her looks were cold as frost, 

When, lo ! he heard a mewing. 

O Peter Snooks, unfortunate was Peter 
Poor Peter Snooks, unfortunate was he. 

Says she, what do you mean, 
That you don't keep your cat in ? 
He was this moment seen 
A scratching my new matting ; 
I gave him such a wipe, 
I thought he'd ne'er forget it, 
When last he stole my tripe ; 
But now my trap I'll set it. 
O Peter Snooks, &c. 



PETER SNOOKS. 17 

She did, and, lo, behold ! 
Instead of catching pussy, 
She caught a dreadful cold, 
By watching it with Susey. 
Her servant maid, like her, 
Being full of cream of tartar, 
And thought Tom's skins of fur 
Would do to make a barter. 
O Peter Snooks, &c. 

Being foil' d at what she thought 
Would sorely punish Peter, 
Straightforth a monkey bought, 
That he should not defeat her. 
And for that nasty cat, 
My sash I will unlatch it, 
When prowling for my fat, 
My Jacko soon will catch it. 
O Peter Snooks, &c. 

He took his evening walk 
To look for something nice, 
And to Biddy's larder stalk'd 
For something more than mice. 
A relish soon he found, 
Which mightily did suit, 
Mutton cutlet full. a' pound, 
And onion-sauce to boot. 
O Peter Snooks, &c. 



18 PETER SNOOKS. 

He scarcely had begun, 
To enjoy his savoury bit, 
When Jacko at him sprung, 
Which overturn'd the kit. 
Of cutlet, cat, and Jacko, 
Which lay upon the floor, 
Like lightning up the clock, 
Poor puss away he tore. 
O Peter Snooks, &c. 

The noise it brought the folks 
To see what was the evil, 
On opening door out bolts, 
The cat like any devil ; 
Who never look'd behind, 
Until he 'd reach'd his master, 
And having lost his tail, 
Soon told of his disaster. 
Peter Snooks, &c. 

She was well pleased to find, 
The trophy that was left, 
Although 'twas Tom's behind 
Of which he 'd been bereft. 
And said she 'd have it made, 
Up in a cap or turban ; 
They said at the Arcade 
Such a thing had ne'er be heard on. 
O Peter Snooks, &c. 



PETER SNOOKS. 19 

Says she, " What 's that to you, 
If I desire it done?" 
They soon most civil grew ; 
But it will have no run, 
They thought between themselves ; 
But that they did not tell her. 
She treated them like elves — 
They had never seen her fellow. 
O Peter Snooks, &c, 

If made up for the shop, 
It would not do for sale, 
The reason 's pretty clear, 
Because it was tail male. 
She every day at noon 
Into the garden goes, 
And oft by light of moon 
The tail of pussy shows. 
O Peter Snooks, &c. 

Poor Snooks was fairly beat 
By this pernicious woman ; 
Obliged was to retreat, 
For living near her who can ? 
The money that he spent 
To make his cottage tidy, 
Was lost the day he went, 
Which proved to him a cry- day. 
O Peter Snooks, &c. 

c 2 



20 PETEE SNOOKS. 

The house remained unlet 
Full a quarter of a year, 
The landlord could not get 
A tenant out of fear. 
An action soon he brought 
'Gainst her for loss of rent ; 
Defied and set at nought, 
He knew not what it meant. 
O Peter Snooks, &c. 

The trial it came on ; 
But what was his dismay, 
When she her husband John 
Produced in court that day ! 
The plaintiff was non-suited, 
As you may well suppose ; 
She only got well hooted, 
Well pleased it was not blows. 
O Peter Snooks, &c. 



•21 



OSSIANIC. 

'Twas Murdock of the Smithfield fens, "hero of the 
shambles, who often led to bloody fight the clans of 
Warwick Lane ; not more renown'd for deeds of arms was 
Fingal's Scotia's king than Murdock, descended from a 
line of slaughtermen. He, the eldest of their race, pursued 
the calling of his sires, — robust and strong of limb, was 
named bull head, by some a bully called. A sturdy butcher's- 
block was Murdock's throne, from whence he did address 
his clans by sound of marrowbone and cleaver, when any 
scouts from Leadenhall were seen about the purlieus of 
his Newgate home. The gentle Nan with three black 
eyes decoy'd away had he from Ben the Big of Leadenhall ; 
who, full of ire on missing her, had sworn perdition to the 
fell destroyer Murdock ; for sorely did he his loss bewail, 
she having left behind some kids of hers by Ben and Co. 
A herald, with his badge, came straight from Ben, to 
challenge Murdock for a slaughtering day near Battle- 
bridge, by morning dawn, the day that follows close upon 
the Sabbath. They each appeared at the appointed time 
and place, with forces strong on either side, and banners 



22 OSSIANIC. 

streak'd with blood got from forays of former times : the 
gallant Murdock with heirloom of his housed a hatchet 
bright, appeared in front ; a little hillock in the rear, on 
which he placed his Nan, with bandage over two out of 
the three black eyes, — two which Nature had bestowed, the 
other given by art, a trophy from great Murdock's hand 
for wanting virtues which belong to chaste Diana. Yet still 
she loved him for his manly prowess ; an ox he could bring 
down without a second application of his sinewy arm. A 
legion of Newgate Market butchers followed in his wake; 
from noise they made you would have thought they 
Papists were, some bulls sent over by the Pope, so furious 
were they for the coming fight. The Leadenhalls com- 
menced the carnage by sound of horn, green taken from a 
beast of extreme size, and answered on the other side by 
marrowbones and cleavers, which made the welkin ring. 
The sturdy Nan, to keep her spirits up, imbibed had more 
than her usual quantum, in direful plight fell off her 
perch. The desperate Ben, in strength inferior only to the 
Nemean Lion, had floored about a dozen of the Newgate- 
iters, roared out with lungs stentorian, or like the grating 
of some rusty bars, for Murdock. No sooner was the 
summons made, than with his grisly beard unshaven for 
a week, appeared the hero. With vigour each applied his 
marrowbones, and many were the blows they interchanged; 
when Murdock, by a sudden spring, just caught him on the 
hip, and threw him on his head with force to kill an ox. 
His neck was dislocated, but his standard-bearer, with 



OSSIANIC. 23 

badge on arm, between his legs the head of mighty Ben 
he did pull in, and on a shutter from the field of marrow- 
bones had him conveyed. Just then a bluish flame arose, 
near to the spot where Nan was placed by Murdock 
before the fight began. With anxious bound he soon was 
by her side, or what of it was left. In grief he blew his 
nose, so melancholy it sounded, like a cow in trouble, on 
beholding her of the wrinkled neck, who from combustion 
had exploded ; in frantic grief he tore his matted hair, 
and had her borne away in barrow borrowed from a 
neighbouring shed, to be interred near Fish Street Hill, 
where over her he raised a hill of shells, as great in oyster 
line was she. For years, on that eventful day, 'twas held a 
solemn feast, and called the Feast of Shells. Nan often 
shows her ghost to Murdock, in order to keep his spirits 
up, and prove to him that she has not forsaken them. 



2-1 



A VICTIM TO ABSTINENCE. 

Here's a mess, brought on, I confess, 

By joining the Teatotal party ; 
I'm reduced to a thread, or a loaf of French bread, 

That was once so hale and hearty. 
Master Slender is fat when compared to me ; 

A walking rushlight I resemble. 
If I tread on a worm it makes my heart turn, 

That I'm all in a shake and a tremble. 



A mouse one night got into my room ; 

I felt all over so nervous, 
I rang for a light in a terrible fright, — 

From such monsters, O Lord, preserve us. 
I thought I ne'er should recover the fright 

That a kitten one day put me in ; 
He jump'd at my knee, 'twas awful to see, 

I was laid up a fortnight for him. 



A VICTIM TO ABSTINENCE. 25 

I am more like a fife than an emblem of life, 

Such a squeaking you hear when I talk, 
Without any quibble shall make a good treble, 

And you'll find how I shake when I walk. 
My feelings one day were very much hurt, 

As they said there was little of fat o' me ; 
I look'd quite aghast at my being ask'd 

To replace the last living anatomy. 



Of this world I am weary, forsaken by Mary, 

Who says I'm a scarecrow on stilts ; 
I ne'er shall recover well enough for her lover ; 

I'm afraid there are many such jilts. 
I wish you good-bye, I am going to die, 

A victim to water no doubt ; 
If you'd profit by me, from the element flee, 

Unless it 's made up in brown stout. 



20 



ON THE QUEEN RIDING OYER CHELSEA 
BRIDGE AND TOLL BEING DEMANDED. 

A FACT IN 1838. 



The Queen was riding out one day 

On horseback without state, 
And passing over Chelsea Bridge, 

Forgot to pay the gate. 
The man of tolls allow'd the Queen 

To pass without a ticket, 
To pay the price he stopp'd the groom, 

And on him closed the wicket. 

" What's to be done ? " replied the man, 

Surprised beyond belief ; 
" No cash have I, but, as a pledge, 

I '11 leave my handkerchief. 
The Queen should know the time allow'd 

By law to get it out ; 
Unless redeem' d within twelve months, 

'Tis lost without a doubt." 



27 



THE ARCH-REVILERS MAY BE OUTLAWED 
BY THE ARCH-DUKE. 

WRITTEN ON THE ERECTION OF THE DUKE's STATUE AT HYDE-PARK 

CORNER. 



I statue am in statu quo, — 
'Tis very wrong to serve me so. 

They say I'm down to come. 
I like the site, though cannot see 
Why they object, 'twixt you and me ; 

But there's no pleasing some. 

If I remain for six years more, 
Which many would think quite a bore, 

Though I am not averse, 
To make up for my irritation, 
Shall plead the statue's limitation, 

And them by law coerce. 



28 



AN INTERESTING DISCOVERY. 

To find the philosopher's stone you have heard, 

Has been the endeavour for ages ; 
The secret at last has fell to my lot, 

Which has bother' d the heads of the sages. 
Their object to find was how to make gold, 

I care not whether in meal or in malt, 
If it comes to the same, which I'll presently show, 

That there's nothing like brandy and salt. 
O there's nothing like brandy and, salt, 
My brave boys, there's nothing like brandy and salt. 

A few of the cases well known to be true 

You shall hear, when I'm sure you will wonder ; 
For those who are old, it will make them quite new, 

And the timid ne'er frighten' d by thunder. 
To the dumb it gives speech, by a few applications ; 

Those who stutter no longer will faulter ; 
The moody be heard by their loud cachinations, 

And the hipp'd in no fear of a halter. 
O there's nothing, &c. 



AN INTERESTING DISCOVERY. 29 

All sorts of disorders, whether inside or out, 

The spleen, the colic, or phthisic, 
The liver or lights, with shivering at nights, 

All cured without taking of physic. 
What a blessing for all this discovery hath made ! 

You may now take your whisky and malt, 
And headaches defy, for that's all my eye, 

While there's plenty of brandy and salt. 
O there's nothing, &c. 

Rheumatics, lumbago, or quinsy in throat, 

Collapses, heartburn, or the measles, 
Kibe-heels and sore toes, carbuncles on nose, 

What news for the Sir Peter Teasles ! 
For the gout will be only remember' d by name, 

Same as scurvy, the jaundice, or stricture, 
The doldrums and dumps, chicken-pox, or the mumps, 

All cured by this simple mixture. 
O there's nothing, &c. 

A woman born blind was requested to try 

The effect it would have upon her ; 
Applied twice or thrice, she open'd one eye, 

For the other not long did defer. 
Another had lost the use of his feet 

Some years before this discovery, 
After trying it twice, he walk'd down the street, 

And surprised were all at his recovery. 
O there's nothing, &c. 



30 AN INTERESTING DISCOVERY. 

A person at forty had lost all his teeth, 

And his powers to digest were at fault, 
His money and lands was about to bequeath, 

When he heard of brandy and salt. 
The tone of his stomach, in a week from this time, 

Proved how soon was his complete revivery, 
By rubbing his gums with the brandy and brine, 

There started up two rows of ivory. 
O there's nothing, &c. 

For a pain in the side, or a tightness of hide, 

This specific 's certain to cure, 
Or a blight in the eye, better known as a sty, 

And from leprosy make you quite pure. 
Unless there's a plague in a very few years, 

I'm afraid there will hardly be room, 
As none will now die, which fills me with fear 

That the blessing will turn out no boon. 
O there's nothing, &c. 

I have not told you half the benefit which 

This wonder of wonders can do, 
It is good for a stitch as well as the itch, 

And of devils you'll ne'er have the blue. 
In a very few years no doctors you'll see, 

As no longer will they be required, 
And your health be preserved without paying a fee, 

A requisite so long desired. 
O there's nothing, &c. 



31 



REFLECTION. 



Who has not seen the diamond spray, 
On a moonlight night, in the waters play ? 
Or do not behold in those ripples so bright, 
How distant appears the coming night % 
But clouds soon obscure the playful moon 
With the sombre look of departed noon. 
Just so, in the early dawn of life, 
No cares have we, no cause for strife. 
When alas too soon the sky's o'ercast, 
And our fancied joys for ever past. 
All pleasures and hope now disappear 
By the loss of friends we held most dear ; 
But the moon once more in bright array 
Shines forth to light the mariners' way ; 
The clouds disperse, the sky is clear, 
And fairer hopes at length draw near. 
All bounteous Heaven, how great art thou, 
That can relieve the sadden'd brow ! 
By the softening hand of Time we're led 
To bliss that seem'd for ever fled. 



MADRIGAL. 

Music by B. Gibsone. 

Flora is said to see her drooping flowers 
From Winter's iron hand so sorely blighted, 
And fearful lest the coming April showers 
Revive not gems in which her soul delighted. 

The genial spring arrives, her sorrows cease, 
Soft zephyrs play, refreshing dews appear, 
The sun's refulgent rays and warmth bring peace, 
And plenty flows throughout the happy year. 

Then did she sing and dance around, 
Her nosegay loves, so fresh, so fair, 
With rapture did her heart rebound 
To view those flow' rets of her care. 



33 



THE MAN IN FALSE POSITION. 

Tune — " King of the Cannibal Islands." 

A husband by his wife cajoled, 

To fill position he could not hold, 

He having got four thousand a year, 

She thought his elevation clear. 

He was not over bright himself, 

As well as she, thought that his pelf 

Would carry him through whate'er he tried, 

And what he ask'd for ne'er denied. 

A seat in Parliament was his aim, — 

Five thousand spent to get the same, — 

To elevate his name in life, 

But more than that to please his wife. 

Oh what troubles are in store 

For this sad, dull, and empty bore ; 

Whate'er he did it caused a roar, 

This man in false position. 

The second time he took his seat — 
" A Rat, a Rat," his ears did greet ; 



34 THE MAN IN FALSE POSITION. 

He stared, and wonder'd what it meant, 
The sound so furious his way sent ; 
The reason was he changed his place, 
His back was now where was his face ; 
They thought the minister had he 
Bought up his vote, which caused, you see, 
The startling sounds which met his ear. 
He colour'd up and show'd much fear, 
And wonder'd what he could have done 
To cause him pain, they so much fun. 
Oh what troubles, &c. 

He took a fright, no more went there, 
Resign'd his seat, which caused the fair 
To rate him well for want of pluck : 
But this he said to please his duck, — 
" My love, I have a thing in view, 
Whereby much honour will accrue, 
And you My Lady yet shall be ; " 
But how or where she could not see. 
" My friend, Jack Gobble, I should think, 
The Alderman of Benetfinck, 
No doubt will put me in the way 
To fill the civic chair some day." 
Oh what troubles, &c. 

His wife she chuckled at the thought, 
And Parliament set down at nought 



THE MAN IN FALSE POSITION. 35 

Compared to this, a Lord Mayor he, 
And she my Lady Mayoress be. 
She urged him on — he felt some doubts ; 
As time approach'd she at him flouts, 
And says he has a chicken heart, 
And wish'd 'twas hers to bear the part. 
At length the bright eventful day 
Had near arrived ; without delay, 
At Swan and Edgar's purchased large, 
To grace at future time the barge. 
Oh what troubles, &c. 

The sun shone bright on Lord Mayor s day,— 
Not very usual, you will say, — 
But so it did, yet clouds there were, 
Which hung upon the lady fair. 
Her lord had got a cold that he 
Could hardly speak, nor hardly see ; 
A nervousness came o'er him quite, 
Which was the cause of his sad plight. 
She rallied him — it was no go, 
Too ill he was to make a show ; 
He kept his bed that very day, 
When she expected such display. 
Oh what troubles, &c. 

His spirits never did revive, — 
More dead he look'd than one alive ; 



THE MAN IN FALSE POSITION. 

She bitterly repined her fate, 

That urged him on, though now too late. 

Her folly shows itself too well, 

She hears the bells which toll his knell ; 

Not knell of death, but his successor ; 

She could not think what did possess her. 

But so it was, she loved him still, 

And to the country went to nil 

A station much more to his mind, 

Where peace and comfort he could find. 
Oh what pleasures are in store 
For one who was once thought a bore, 
Of folly's cup will drink no more, 
Being in his right position. 



y7 



IMPROMPTU. 

WRITTEN ON HEADING THE ACCOUNT OF THE GREAT FLOODS IN 
THE SOUTH OF FRANCE, NOVEMBER, 1840. 

The waters, the waters are pouring in, 

Destroying alike both kith and kin ; 
The tolling of bells from churches on high, 

Aloud proclaim that danger is nigh. 
The mothers cling to their children dear, 

The fathers' stout hearts are fill' d with fear, 
As crash upon crash from the falling roofs, 

And the clattering sound of the horses' hoofs. 

The waters, the waters continue to gain, — 

The attempts to stem them are all in vain ; 
The bridges are carried away by the surge, 

And many are left for the funeral dirge. 
The roar of the tempest seems to abate, 

Each anxious, yet fearful to know his fate : 
The waters are gone, but the sorrows are left, 

Of friends and relations for ever bereft. 



A LOVE LETTER. 

MlGH DEER ZOOZAN, 

High ar bin wherry hun appy sinse thee larst 
tyme ugh mett mea wich ugh noes wars neer Comun 
Grdne, high fellt Hall hover soe jellus cos hass ugh noes 
hough hi dowts hon ugh, high warnt yew toe explane 
wugh gived yew thatt hare bore, has ugh nows werrey wel 
high didint, wars hit thatt hare taul fellerr yew wars 
warkhing vith ven high droppt hon ugh, hif soh hie whill 
Kut ugh hup hinto ribbings, cos yew noes hough high 
dootes hon yew. 

High ham ewer 

D'woted wel 

Whisher 
Jim. 



:39 



A BACCHANALIAN SONG. 

WRITTEN DURING THE TRIAL OF QUEEN CAROLINE. 

Come, bring a full bowl, let sorrow ne'er sit 
O'er the brow where good humour is seen ; 
Let each noble soul take his quantum of flip, 
And toast in a bumper, The Queen. 

Then fill every glass, 

While mirth as it rolls, 

And prove what we are, 

Jolly Souls — Jolly Souls. 

Be jovial and jolly — let's drown Melancholy ; 
Hail Bacchus, all hail you with glee ; 
To be dull, sick and sad, you'll own it's a folly ; 
Pledge all to fulfil his decree. 
Then fill every glass, &c. 

'Gainst oppression we rail ; may conspiracies fail, 
And innocence justly be spared ; 
May witnesses false have cause to bewail 
That calumny's tongue they e'er rear'd. 
Then fill every glass, &c. 



40 A BACCHANALIAN SONG. 

Tho' Bacchus we boast, I've a nobler theme, 
A theme which all mortals must praise, 
While harmony flows like the silvery stream, 
To Apollo our voices we'll raise. 
Then fill every glass, &c. 



41 



MADRIGALIAN. 



Standing by a crystal fountain, 
Phyllis, with her eyes so blue, 

Sadly o'er her woes recounting 
That her Damon was untrue. 

Unperceived he caught her weeping, 
And o'erheard her grief profound ; 

All her love for him repeating, 
In silent murmurs did resound. 

My Phyllis fair, my Phyllis kind, 
Forgive my feign'd estranged heart ; 

'Twas all to prove which proved me blind, 
That ever you could from me part. 

My Phyllis, now I know you love ! 

With doubt my heart was sore opprest ; 
I never more will dare to rove, 

My mind's at ease, my soul's at rest. 



4:2 



FAMILY PORTRAITS. 



My Uncle was a man of very nervous and peculiar 
temperament. He had a strange predilection whenever 
he saw any bird or beast, of imitating their various sounds 
and habits. For instance, if he saw a pig, he would walk in 
the gutter instead of the pavement ; the same with a goat, 
he would call everybody Billy the whole day ; and it was 
quite unpleasant for any young ladies to be near him, from 
his amorous propensities : the fact was, my Aunt always 
watched him very narrowly when the latter occurred — in 
short, the cases were innumerable. I will presently give 
you a sample. After the paroxysms or fits (for I can hardly 
designate them by any other name) were over, it left him 
very languid, and wore out a naturally robust constitution, 
for he died at the age of fifty, and as much emaciated as 
a man of eighty would have been. 

From continual excitement in looking after my Uncle, 
my Aunt had imbibed some of his peculiarities. For 
instance, if any one but herself poked the fire she would 
begin singing PO CO FA ; or when at dinner any one sitting 
near incautiously handed her the mustard, which was one 



FAMILY PORTRAITS. 43 

of her antipathies, she would by instinct sneeze for five 
minutes, in spite of bread being applied to her nose ; there- 
fore, from this outline you may conclude they were a very 
comical couple. Now you must know they were married 
twenty-five years, and had no children, which I might say 
was a blessing in more senses than one ; for, by their dying 
without issue, I inherited a very pretty property ; and 
progeny from such a pair might have been a great pest 
to society as well as themselves : therefore, what is, is for 
the best. One day my Uncle and Aunt were walking out, 
when a man overtook them who was driving a dog-cart, 
which contained the savoury viands of the canine species, 
namely, dogs' meat. Now directly my Uncle saw the dog, he 
began barking most furiously ; the dog immediately joined 
in chorus, without studying the rules of music, by taking a 
tenor to his counter. The man, thinking my Uncle was 
wantonly irritating his dog, commenced a volley of abuse, 
which so alarmed my Aunt, she fainted away, when the 
man of meat bolted off as fast as he could. A crowd 
collected round, and not knowing the original cause, but 
hearing my Uncle bark, concluded he had been bit by a 
mad dog, and all kept aloof ; but one, more daring than the 
rest, got behind and pinioned his arms. By that time the 
fit had gone off, my Aunt had recovered from her fainting, 
who explained the cause of her husband's malady, when 
the man let go his hold, and so ended the matter ; but he 
was very weak for a long time after. If he saw a fish in 
the water it caused a swimming of the head ; or in playing 



44 FAMILY POETRAITS. 

a rubber of whist any one introduced the subject of fish 
he was sure to finesse. If he heard a horse neigh, every 
thing was negative that day, " Nay, nay," the only reply. 
One day he went to the Zoological Gardens, which I 
think shortened his life at least two years, from the 
unusual excitement. When he saw the Lion he insisted on 
fighting the keeper ; at sight of the Bear he wanted to sell 
his three per cents ; the sight of the Muscovy Ducks 
suggested cheating, and almost prompted him to join the 
Stock Exchange, for the sake of ducking it. In fact, I 
might go on multiplying these occurrences without end, 
and must conclude by stating one more fact. My Aunt's 
greatest antipathy was a cat : my Uncle's, a dog. One 
day a cat found its way into the parlour, when my Aunt 
began mewing. The cat, frightened, flew about the room ; 
at last settled on my Uncle's back, tore off his wig, and 
scratched the top of his head very badly. At that identical 
moment a man called for taxes. The servant asked him 
into the passage, and having a terrier dog with him, as 
soon as the servant opened the parlour-door, took the 
liberty of walking in, which the moment my Uncle saw 
him, commenced barking, which had the effect, together 
with the dog, of frightening the cat from his shoulders, 
when the terrier instantly gave chase to her into the 
garden, and puss escaped over the wall. My Uncle and 
Aunt were laid up for some time after this untoward event, 
and shortly after bade adieu to this world for ever. 



±r> 



ELLEN OF THE WEAR, 

Set to Music by G. W. Martin. 

So sweet a girl was scarcely seen 

As Ellen of the "Wear ; 
Beloved by all she ever knew, 

Most, to her mother dear. 
Her cheerful eye and modest blush 

Enslaved the hearts of all 
The youths who in the hamlet dwelt 
Close by the water-fall. 
When ask'd to wed, 
She gaily said, 
" You cannot be my lover ; " 
And when ask'd why, 
Said, with, a sigh, 
" I must not leave my mother." 

A stranger to the village came, 

Of noble bearing he ; 
Poor Ellen's heart enslaved was soon, 

No longer to be free. 



46 ELLEN OF THE WEAK. 

The same with him towards the maid, — 

He loved her most sincere ; 
And when he press' d her hand in his, 
Each eye disclosed a tear. 
When ask'd to wed, 
She gaily said, 
"I'll take thee for my lover ; " 
With joy extreme, 
He caught the theme — 
" You now must leave your mother." 



47 



APSLEY HOUSE. 

A countryman, bringing up a petition for His Grace the 
Duke of Wellington, and mistaking St. George's Hospital 
for Apsley House, being asked what his complaint was, told 
them the letter would explain it ; they, thinking it was to 
admit him as an indoor patient (and as the physician had 
not arrived), showed him into a small room. The country- 
man, scratching his head, thought it was not very grand 
for the Duke's house, especially from its imposing appear- 
ance outside. After waiting about an hour, he peeped 
down the long passage and saw one of the nurses (whom 
he took for the Duke's housekeeper), inquired whether 
" he'd coome yet." The nurse, thinking of course he meant 
the physician, said he was expected shortly, and asked if 
his was an urgent case ; he said not exactly so, but he had 
met with a little accident in his part of the " coontry." At 
that moment the doctor arrived, when the man gave the 
letter, which soon explained the matter, the superscription 
being addressed to His Grace the Duke of Wellington. 



48 



IN REMEMBRANCE DEAR OF A PASTRY- 
COOK'S WIFE. 

To have the head shaved, mix the hair up in mortar, 
and build an oven with it, that whenever it is used, it may 
call to mind the dear departed, who used to have a finger 
in every pie ; and although he never puffed her off when 
alive, he never makes a puff now without thinking that 
she, alas ! is puffed out. 



49 



SLY CUPID. 

Set to Music by John Clinton. 

Sly Cupid to his mother came, 

One day when full of grief, 
Complain'd that he had lost his fame, 

And all his joys were brief. 
He was an idle boy, some said, 

But that he would deny, 
His art no longer was obeyed ; 

Had he not cause to sigh ? 

She chided him, and said that lie 

A truant was to her, 
Or not so many would be free, 

And thus their suits defer. 
" No fault of mine, my mother dear, 

I pray you do not scold ; 
The cause I know, lend me thine ear,- 

Remove from earth the gold." 



50 SLY CUPID. 

" If what you say is true, my dear, 

That all the world's grown cold, 
Pursue thy art, give o'er thy fear, 

And point your darts with gold." 
" joyful thought ! " the child exclaim'd, 

I'll have them barb'd anew ; 
And trust I shall no more be blamed, 

That lovers are so few."- 



51 



CIRCASSIAN WAR-SONG. 

Set to Music by Alfred Devaux. 

The dear loved mountains, homesteads of their sires, 
Whose native beauties every bosom fires ; 
Circassia's maidens, loveliest of the fair, 
Each warrior will protect with tender care. 

The invaders weave the chain, 

To enslave the bold and free, 
The bolts are forced in vain, 

Which they have made for thee. 
For freedom's cause ye fight, 

A gem more dear than life, 
Your honour'd country's right, — 

Then forward to the strife ! 

To arms are call'd the brave, 

Circassia's foes are come, 
And make the tyrant's grave, 

Who seek your native home. 

E2 



52 CIRCASSIAN WAR-SONG. 



The echo through the hills 
Aloud proclaim the cry, 

With rage each bosom fills, 
The invaders to defy. 



53 



DUTCH CLOCK-MAKERS. 

I KNOW no class of tradesmen so kind and obliging as 
the Dutch clock-makers. Whoever has had occasion to 
order a clock for his kitchen will, I am quite sure, verify 
my observations. The most polite attention awaits you if 
only to order a twelve-shilling clock ; they will send it 
home, let the distance be what it may — say four or five 
miles ; it is put up, and the man will call in about a week 
to regulate it, and, if occasion requires, will call again and 
again, all for twelve shillings. I have frequently noticed the 
men as they traverse the streets with their " ting," " ting," 
" ting," denoting their calling, the bland and soft expression 
of their countenances, (I may almost say benevolence,) as 
if they regulated their conduct the same as their time- 
pieces. Now, suppose after a few years, from some mis- 
management, (for I think with moderate care they would 
last ten years,) the clock should be out of order. You call. 
The same marked civility attends you as if you were going 
to order another clock ; he sends for it, returns it repaired, 
fixes it all complete for about three shillings or three and 



54 DUTCH CLOCK-MAKERS. 

sixpence. Therefore, I do think, for their civility, the use- 
fulness of the article, and the small profits, no class of 
tradesmen are more entitled to notice than the Dutch 
clock-makers. 



55 



THE EXILED ONE. 

With fond regrets my love I mourn, 

Exiled beyond the sea ; 
Against her will by menials borne, 

Far, far away from me. 
No more shall I behold that face, 

That form, so soft, so fair ; 
Though time wears on 'twill not efface 

My love for one so rare. 

If she yet lives she's lost to me, 

All ray of hope hath fled ; 
And never more those eyes will see, 

Ah me, that I were dead. 
For dead indeed this world is now, 

No joys, alas ! are mine ; 
Though blighted is our mutual vow, 

Yet still my heart is thine. 



56 



RULES AND REGULATIONS OF THE FEMALE 
CHARTISTS, 

COMMONLY CALLED SERVANTS. 

1. We will not undertake any occupation where there is 
only one servant, unless the person we assist guarantees 
never to see the kitchen. 

2. We are never to be kept up after eleven o'clock at 
night, unless we are paid overtime, and then whatever 
time we go to bed to have the usual rest of eight hours. 

3. To have a day's holiday once a month, and not to be 
dictated to what we choose to wear ; if from the saving 
of fat from PIG we can buy a BOAR, and can avail ourselves 
to buy a veil from our vales, what's the odds ? 

4. To have the first cut from every joint (unless there's 
company), for by the time we have it, it is not fit to eat, 
by that means all can have it as a Christian ought, warm 
and comfortable. 

5. Always to take the best of everything, because the 
other will be just as good, — what the eye ne'er sees the 
heart ne'er grieves. 



RULES OF THE FEMALE CHARTISTS. 57 

6. When a new servant comes, poison her mind against 
her new situation, and invite her to join this our mutual 
protection society. 

7. If the person who employs you should say anything 
angry, make it a rule to spoil the dinner, more particularly 
if she has friends ; try all you can to annoy and make her ill, 
as you will then have a better chance of making perquisites. 

8. Be careful of fire for your own sakes. 

9. Secure the fastenings from casual robbers, unless they 
are acquaintances of your own, such as a brother or a cousin 
coming home, who has been unfortunate and transported 
for taking a trifle from sheer distress, then you may let 
them in, and help them to what won't be missed from the 
kitchen ; you must be kind to your relations as all the 
world are against them. 

10. Always engage to find your own tea and sugar, as 
you generally can by hook or by crook supply yourself 
from theirs, such as by never having the brass kettle clean 
enough for the parlour, and then they will send the pot 
down, by that means you get two or three pounds extra 
wages. Never sell your savings in the neighbourhood for 
fear of detection, as what we call perquisites they call 
thieving. 

11. Whenever a key lays about (if the person you assist 
should act the part of a gaoler), take an impression of it in 
soap, and any of your unfortunate relations I before alluded 
to will get one cast from the impression, then you will be 
a match for their locking propensities. 



58 EULES OF THE FEMALE CHARTISTS. 

12. You are poor — they are rich; do all you can to over- 
reach them, as it was never intended by our Maker that 
some should roll in affluence while others are licking the 
dust. 

If ever I divulge these rules to any but those initiated, 
may I have a spit run through my body, be roasted alive, 
and basted with brine and pepper. 



59 



SONG. 

Set to Music by John Clinton. 

I LOVE to dwell on friendship past, 
Which death alone can sever, 
To ponder o'er from first to last, 
Those accents lost for ever. 

That used to greet, 

Those moments sweet, 
Which fond remembrance calls to mind. 

Too early fled, 

All past and dead, 
Terrestrial joys none left behind. 

Still to reflect upon what might 
Have been my fate had heaven decreed, 
And spared that flower to my sight, 
A paradise on earth indeed. 

No more for me 

My love to see. 



SONG. 



Too pure to dwell with us below ; 

We'll meet above, 

Where all is love, 
And never-ending pleasures flow. 



61 



The following was written upon the fact of a person taking his friend's 
Dog (a Newfoundland one) with him to bathe. The Dog seeing 
him in the water, and fancying he wanted help, rushed in and 
brought him to shore much exhausted. The person was a good 
swimmer. 16th Sept. 1839. 



A MAN went out to swim, 

And, as a sort of whim, 

His friend's dog took with him ; 

No sooner he plunged in, 

Than after him went Tim. 

He forthwith made a din, 

When Tim came near his chin, 

In striking out each fin, 

He nearly crack'd his skin. 

Of hair dog seized the rim, 

To waft him to his kin, 

And through the waters skim, 

The Brute so thick, man slim, 

When safe on shore so prim, 

Exhausted lay poor Tim, 

The dog though pleased look'd grim. 



62 



GRATITUDE. 



Sweet is the breath of May, more sweet, my love, 
More mild in manners than the gentle dove. 

Dear maid, how much I love thee ! 
Thy mind more beauteous than thy face, 
Adorn' d by every virtue that can place 

Thee uncompared, oh, how I love thee ! 

To soothe the sorrows in this world of strife, 
Thou sure wert sent to be my balm of life. 

I love thee, oh, how I love thee ! 
When sickness did oppress my brow, 
Who sorrowing o'er my pillow watch'd ? 'twas thou 

Yes, dearest, ever shall I love thee ! 

Ah, soft and gentle one, this heart of mine, 
Will never alter by the lapse of time, 

So much, dear girl, I love thee ! 
But ever beat for thee in weal or woe, 
My unvarying conduct will for ever show. 

Angel of life, I love thee ! 



63 



WRITTEN IMPROMPTU, 

On reading in the "Atlas" Newspaper, November Oth, 1844, that the 
long disputed Tracy Peerage was decided in the House of Lords 
(subject to the genuineness of a stone, broken in four pieces, 
found in the Churchyard of Castlebrack, Ireland) in favour of 
James Tracy, Esq. 



To prove his right to the peerage quite, 

James Tracy found a stone ; 
It was broken in four, in pieces no more, 

And was not the Stone of Scone ; 
But the genuine one of the family, 

Which was proved beyond a doubt, 
For they traced the name of James Tracy 

In the churchyard thereabout. 



6-L 



THE DISADVANTAGE OF INSURING 
YOUR LIFE. 

Tune — "The Poacher. - ' Ri-tu-ral-lu. 

A THOUGHTFUL man insured his life, 

The Phoenix was the office he chose, 

He was equally cautious in choosing a wife, 

And thought her manners were free from strife. 

A Tartar he found in her he'd got, 
Appearances warranted quite the reverse ; 
For him his home was made too hot, 
A life of misery was his lot. 

He wish'd her dead as she did him, 
By worrying thought her ends to gain ; 
She seldom or ever held her din, 
Especially when she'd a skin full of gin. 

By constant trouble and vexation, 
More like a veneer than a tree look'd he ; 
She follow'd him up without relaxation, 
A doctor, she thought, was all botheration. 



THE DISADVANTAGE OF INSURING YOUR LIFE. 

The office where his life was insured, 

Being tolcl the state of his bodily health, 

And what he had already endured, 

By his wife, who thought the five-thousand secured. 

The medical man by them employ' d 
Was told to call in a friendly way, 
Unless by neglect he was destroy' d, 
And the money of theirs by others enjoy'd. 

Now the doctor was not over rich, 
But a cunning and calculating man ; 
In her favour if he could a niche, 
And by assiduity her bewitch. 

He made his call, look'd trim and neat, 
And to the wife was most polite ; 
She begg'd that he would take a seat, 
And offer' d him a sandwich of meat. 

He explain'd the object of his visit ; 

At first she seem'd not over pleased ; 

But when he said he'd send him no physic, 

And would tell his employers he had the phthisic. 

He made his appearance the very next day, 
Not to cause suspicion of any neglect ; 
But his duty was doing and earning his pay. 
To the wife he felt he had something to say. 



66 THE DISADVANTAGE OF INSURING YOUE LIFE, 

When arrived, he found the shutters were closed, 
His heart it beat a rat-a-tat-tat ; 
It should not be long before he proposed, 
Unless he was by some others opposed. 

He settled the business that same night, 
With fortune and wife soon was install'd ; 
Some say that he was not in the right, 
The office he left saw it in the same light. 

CAUTION, 
Now when they engage a medical man, 
A sine qua non he married should be ; 
For by gross neglect he them can trepan, 
And physic their fund if he lays well his plan. 



67 



PARODY. 

Tune, — " Lucy Neale." 

— ♦ — 

I courted once a lovely girl, 

Her mother's name was Beale, 
The daughter's surname was the same, 

But her heart was made of steel. 
Her Christian name was Susan ; 

How oft I've knelt to sue, 
But her unkindness makes me sigh, 
For me 'tis bitter rue. 
Oh, false Susan Beale ! 
O, hard heart of steel ! 
I wish I never had been born, 
And then I should not feel ! 



Her mother kept an oyster shop 
Not far from Saffron Hill, 

Where I my bloaters used to get, 
While Sue did oysters kill. 



F 2 



PAEODY. 

When first I did behold the same 

Young woman at the tub, 
I nearly fainted at the sight, 
For three days touch'd no grub. 
Oh, false Susan Beale ! 
My heart will never heal ! 
When last I saw you trim their beards, 
How much it made me feel ! 

A foster brother of my own 

Took Susan's heart from she, 
And proved, alas ! that he was not 

A fosterer to me. 
She promised, when I left her last, 

On business for to go, 
I might rely upon her truth, 
To others answer no. 
Oh, false Susan Beale ! 
To leave me for Ned Yeale ! 
When I think how much you I loved, 
I wish my heart was steel ! 

My master keeps a broker's shop 
For those who want to borrow, 

Not very far from Mrs. Beale's, 
I know it to my sorrow. 

I wish the place I'd never seen, 
And I had gone to Brussels. 



PARODY. 69 

My nervous system's much relaxed, 
Having lost my maid of mussels. 

Oh, false Susan Beale ! 

Ned you from me to steal ; 
Let me but catch him, won't I make, 

Of him, of him, minced Veale ! 

When last she gave the pledge to me, 

The ticket was my heart, 
I thought in time 'twould be redeem'd 

And never more to part. 
But cruel and unkind she's proved, 

Having never fetch'd the lot ; 
I feel my heart is still in pawn, 
And me she's quite forgot. 
Oh, false Susan Beale ! 
How oft you've spoilt my meal ! 
. My spirits now are under proof ! 
My woe has spoilt my weal ! 

I'll never wash or shave myself, 

Nor cut nor comb my hair ; 
All hairy in the air I'll go, 

The victim of despair. 
And when I'm pointed at by those 

Who chance to know my fate, 
I'm sure that they will pity me, 

Though in that dirty state. 



70 PARODY. 

Oh, false Susan Beale ! 
Oh, hard heart of steel ! 
I wish I never had been born, 
And then I should not feel ! 

And when I'm dead and gone, which will 

Be very soon, I fear, 
My spirit never will be still 

To those who made my bier. 
I'll flit about them everywhere, 

And make their movements sad O, 
When they go gipsying I'll be there 
To fright them with my shadow. 
Oh, false Susan Beale ! 
It serves you right, I feel, 
By harrying me out of my life, 
I'll often make you squeal ! 



71 



A TRIFLING MISTAKE. 

Tune — " Major Macpherson." 



Mr. Gurly and his wife once visited a friend, 

Tol-lol-de-rol-lol-da ! 
Most pleasant and happy the evening did spend ; 

Tol-lol, &c. 
The servant in the passage so polite did behave, 

Tol-lol, &c. 
Apparently a sovereign for a shilling her he gave. 

Tol-lol, &c. 



The maid thought it gold, told her mistress of the gift, 

Tol-lol, &c. 
Which caused her to be most terribly tifY'd ; 

Tol-lol, &c. 
His views they were bad she had no doubt, 

Tol-lol, &c. 
Resolved therefore was she to have it out. 

Tol-lol, &c. 



72 A TRIFLING MISTAKE. 

To see Mrs. Gurry post haste away went she, 

Tol-lol, &c. 
All boiling with rage to expose the faithless he ; 

Tol-lol, &c. 
" Your husband's a nasty and good-for-nothing man, 

Tol-lol, &c. 
With gold the wretch has tried poor Mary to trepan. 

Tol-lol, &c. 



" Pray look at this coin my servant maid has got, 

Tol-lol, &c. 
He gave to her last night, the wicked, drunken sot ; 

Tol-lol, &c. 
No further proof than this, methinks, you do not need, 

Tol-lol, &c. 
To prove to you the will he has to do the deed." 

Tol-lol, &c. 



Her countenance turned a cadaverous hue, 

Tol-lol, &c. 
From sallow to yellow and then it turned to blue ; 

Tol-lol, &c. 
" What's that you say," when she gained her speech, 

Tol-lol, &c. 
" My husband's fidelity, pray, do you impeach 1 " 

Tol-lol, &c. 



A TEIFLING MISTAKE. 73 

Poor Guiiy soon his appearance made, 

Tol-lol, &c. 
When she did him most furiously upbraid ; 

Tol-lol, &c. 
" 0, wretch, your fetch I'd sooner see ; 

Tol-lol, &c. 
Out of my sight, thou base anatomy ! " 

Tol-lol, &c. 



" What is the cause, my love, of all this strife ? " 

Tol-lol, &c. 
Said Gurly to his poor deluded wife ; 

Tol-lol, &c. 
" ' What is the cause % ' — You know full well ; 

Tol-lol, &c. 
You thought all safe, no one was here to tell. 

Tol-lol, &c. 



" I've got the proof, look here, you villian ! " 

Tol-lol, &c. 
" What proof?" cried he ; "that's my gilt shilling ! 

Tol-lol, &c. 
I missed it from my purse to-day, 

Tol-lol, &c. 
And wondered how it could have gone astray." 

Tol-lol, &c. 



74 A TRIFLING MISTAKE. 

Her looks they brightened up at this, 

Tol-lol, &c. 
And pleaded for a loving kiss ; 

Tol-lol, &c. 
She vowed that none should her deceive, 

Tol-lol, &c. 
Whatever was said, she'd never believe. 

Tol-lol, &c. 



75 



THE AFFLICTED MAN. 

Tune — "Jim Crow." 

I AM the most afflicted man 

That ever you did know, 
From infancy I've had mishaps, 

Which presently I'll show. 
One Sunday morn, when I was born, 

I fell just so. 
Although not meant, it made a dent 

Where hair won't grow. 



My mother she was fond of rum, 

And left me in the cold ; 
Forgot the place where I was laid, — 

At least so I've been told. 
I lost my nose, likewise my toes, 

It freezed just so. 
The people think in battle I've 

Been beaten by the foe. 



76 THE AFFLICTED MAN. 

But that is not the worst of all 

The troubles I have had ; 
They made me such a fright that I 

Was called the ugly lad. 
And for a penny, which brought many, 

Made me a show. 
I am the scoff of all the world 

Where'er I go. 



My troubles they have much increased 

Since grown to be a man ; 
I cannot get employed at all 

But in a caravan. 
I never personate myself, 

Which grieves me so. 
By tattooing they make me an ape 

Just come from Borneo. 



I once was put into a cage 

Next to a kangaroo ; 
By some mishap the door got loose, 

And bang at me he flew. 
Some backed the beast, and some backed me, 

It pleased them so. 
He scored me like a piece of pork, 

Which was no go. 



THE AFFLICTED MAN. 77 

I am too old to climb a pole, 

Therefore have lost my place ; 
It matters very little now, 

Having nearly run my race. 
But fortune smiles in spite of foes, 

Which makes my heart glow — 
I am engaged by Mordecai 

To cry old clo'. 



78 



THE LAST THREATENED INVASION, 

Tune — "Bow, wow, wow." 

Old England late was threaten'd hard, 

And put to her defencibles ; 
Prince Joinville he had left his card, 

And frightened all but sensibles. 
The steam they say had open'd all 

Our shores to the assailables ; 
But let us see, before we fall, 

What's left us for availables. 
Bow- wow- wow ! 
The French were coming for a drubbing, 
Bow- wow- wow ! 

They landed once in Bantry Bay, 

Without steam ships, there is no doubt : 
And they, you know, all ran away, 

Well knowing what they were about. 
And so again would be the fate 

Of Joinville's Irresistibles ; 
We'd make them fly and soundly bate, 

As at Egypt did the Invincibles. 
Bow-wow, &c. 



THE LAST THREATENED INVASION. 79 

But I am arguing if they got 

A landing on our sea-girt isle, 
Which before long they'd find too hot, 

And likely to stir up their bile. 
For very drowsy should we be 

To let them get so near our coast, 
Without a broadside go scot free, 

Which always was a Briton's boast. 
Bow-wow, &c. 

To conquer they'd enough to do, 

With Abd el Kader far away ; 
Whose little band, as they well knew, 

Made work for every Algiers' day, 
And so it will be if they dare 

On England's shores to try their game, 
A footing with such homely fare, 

And damage much their former fame. 
Bow-wow, &c. 

Abd el Kader has surrendered to 

The French, that never could take him ; 
And bade his native land adieu, 

No hopes being left his cause to win. 
He bargained that he might be sent 

To Acre or to Mecca, 
Well knowing that, unless he went. 

Was sure to lose his pecker. 
Bow-wow, &c. 



80 THE LAST THREATENED INVASION, 

They surely must have seen the squeeze 

When rats are tempted to get through 
The trap where hangs a piece of cheese, 

Whose whiskers lick, but often rue. 
For having made their savoury meal, 

To go back is their next concern, 
When, lo ! a checkmate makes them squeal 

A stopper to their safe return. 
Bow-wow, &c. 

I'm sure they've thought the better of 

The vaunt they had so boldly bray'd, 
Nor run a risk to be the scoff 

Of Europe for the threat they made. 
'Tis so long since we had a brush, 

They surely have forgot the breed ; 
If they on Britons madly rush, 

To tickle them we are all agreed. 
Bow-wow-wow ! 
The French won't come, it's all a hum, 
Bow-wow-wow ! 



81 



PHRENOLOGY. 

Tune — " Good old Days of Adam and Eve." 

I SING of a man without apology, 
Who had a desire to try phrenology, 
And having a friend who had studied the art, 
To him his mind he did impart. 
" I am anxious," says he, " to know from you, 
What bumps I have, whether many or few, 
And to ascertain where lays my capacity, 
Therefore pray tell me without tenacity." 
O, what learned days, I'm sure such, 
Have never been since the great Confucius. 

His friend who loved a joke full well, 
Set about his fortune to foretel, 
Well knowing he was rather sappy, 
Said he'd shew him the way to make him happy 
But that his head he must shave bare 
To discover the secrets that lay there. 
On the following day he came quite shorn, 
And look'd as smooth as if just born. 
O, what, &c. 



82 PHRENOLOGY. 

He began forthwith to feel his napper, 
And then began his friendly patter, 
" This bump," says he, " though not full-grown, 
Will add, when developed to your renown ; 
To be of service and perfection 
It must be plump for my inspection ; 
Therefore take this and rub it well in, 
The more it smarts the better for telling." 
O, what, &c. 

He rubbed away with might and main, 
In spite of smarting and much pain, 
Until he'd raised a fearful boil 
He never once rested from his toil. 
When hastening to his friend, with sore head, 
Showed a pimple large, just above his forehead : 
" What think you of this," he said with emotion, 
It pains me so, shall I apply a lotion ? " 
O, what, &c. 

" The lump you have raised, is that of discretion ; 
Therefore you will make law your profession ; 
Great wealth will obtain without rapacity ; 
And be look'd upon as a man of sagacity ; 
And be much sought for by the ladies, 
Whose idol you'll be for the rest of your gay days ; 
Wherever you go they will make a rumpus ; 
And say here's a second Serjeant Bumpus." 
O, what, &c. 



PHEENOLOGY. 

His imagination was all on fire, 
And so was the bump which lay much higher, 
For it throbb'd, and jump'd, seem'd ready to burst 
All his hopes to blight, just at the first. 
To keep it from bursting was his endeavour, 
He was told if it did, he was lost for ever, 
The charm would evaporate if it to burst were, 
And all his good fortune like a bubble end must there. 
O, what, &c. 

He began with books his course of study, 
With swelling head and mind so muddy, 
He dreamt of scire and fieri facias, 
Writs in extant, other things vexatious ; 
His mind thus rambled over law stuff, 
Suspending of the habeas corpus, 
Till by twisting and tumbling about in bed, sir, 
The lump he broke which was on his head, sir. 
O, what, &c. 

Next morning when he awoke, O lack ! 
The lump was gone, and down his back 
Was trickling fast all his good luck, O ! 
In the shape of ichor down his back, O ! 
All thoughts he had which were delectable, 
In society to be so very respectable, 
Were vanish'd at once by this catastrophe, 
His petrified limbs lost their elasticity. 
O, what, &c. 



84 



THE OLD BACHELOR 

I AM anxious to marry, but the face that I like 

Is the one I have now by my side, 
Wherever I go this likeness I take 

As the model of her for my bride. 
Such a one if I meet whether here or abroad 

I shall instantly offer my heart, 
And swear by her beautiful face to be true 

From her never, oh never, to part. 



For years I have travell'd North, East, South and West, 

In search of a beauty like this, 
And shall never I fear from the number I've seen 

Meet her likeness to add to my bliss. 
The first that I saw whose resemblance I traced 

And my happiness then thought was nigh, 
In asking a friendly opinion of her, 

Was told she had a glass eye. 



THE OLD BACHELOR. 85 

The shock I received you can easily suppose, 

As beauties like this are so few, 
But resolved to obtain the object in search, 

And my prospects still, still to pursue, 
The next of the fair ones most likely to suit, 

Which fortune threw into my way, 
Was a damsel of twenty whose father was dead, 

And an uncle who always said nay. 



I ask'd his consent, saying love for his niece 

Had prompted me thus to be bold, 
He referr'd me to one, you may judge who I mean, 

The devil, and now it is told. 
I found it no use to pursue my request 

To one with importance so big, 
Especially when it was whisper' d to me 

My love's auburn hair was a wig. 



My spirits recover' d, I started afresh, 

Full of hopes to accomplish my vow, 
With steam and with love I cross' d the wide sea, 

In Holland to find me a vrow. 
I was introduced soon to one Baron von Jaw, 

A relation of mine by my mother, 
Whose daughter so like my dumb dolly Law, 

You would not have known one from the tother. 



THE OLD BACHELOR 

My travels I thought were now quite at an end, 

But the sequel you'll hear by-and-by, 
I press'd her to have me, she seem'd to consent, 

But her only response was a sigh. 
Matters nearly concluded as you may suppose, 

A salute I requested, O dear, 
In attempting to snatch a soft kiss from my love, 

Her false teeth flew about far and near. 



I soon beat a retreat from my cousins the Jaws, 

Without waiting to screw up her teeth, 
To the Emerald Isle my course straightway I took, 

And arrived in the County of Meath. 
Paddy's daughters by dozens I got introduced to ; 

There was something or other amiss, 
One's nose was too long, another's too short, 

And nothing I saw was like this. 



My age is now fifty, I've waited too long, 

And have been too particular by half, 
If any one here will compassion my case, 

I shall joyously both sing and laugh. 
If you have but one eye, but one tooth in your head, 

With a wig whether flaxen or gray, 
I care not if I can but get married, 

And I'll promise you have your own way. 



87 



THE GALVANIC RING. 

Tune — "Tow, row, row." 

Have you heard the news old Jacko, 

Of a famous ring invented, 
That to cure all pains in back, O, 
Gout, rheumatic, or demented. 
Yes it will, O that it will, 
Tow, row, row, O yes it will. 

Galvanic is the name they give it, 

Which when applied forms quite a battery 

For fits and agues quite specific, 

Beat Warner's long range without flattery. 
O yes it does, I'm sure it does. 

I was seized with spasms awful, 

And going I thought to Kingdom come, 

By wearing one of them I saw full, 
The life was saved of my father's son. 
yes it was, indeed it was. 



THE GALVANIC RING. 

With swimming in my head, O dear, O, 

I was attack' d one afternoon, 
The ring I put on without fear, O, 

Which clear'd my peepers very soon. 
Indeed it did, I'm sure it did. 

A sharp attack of gout and cholic, 
That made me feel all over queer ; 

The twisting it soon spoilt my frolic, 
Until I got this ring so dear. 
Indeed it did. 

I once was call'd upon a jury, 

When in the box was seized with cramp, 
I bellow'd out like any fury, 

Which o'er the cause threw quite a damp. 
Indeed it did. 

A ring was lent me in a minute, 
The cause of my mishap was gone, 

No sooner was my finger in it, 

I bow'd and said, " Now pray go on." 
Indeed I did. 

With ring- worm was my child afflicted, 
And just was about to shave her head, 

By wearing one as was predicted, 
A fine head of hair she got instead. 
O yes she did. 



THE GALVANIC RING. 

With dropsy I was always ailing, 

Until this magic ring I wore, 
When soon was hush'd all my bewailing, 
And of the tapping heard no more. 
no it warnt, 
I'm sure it warnt. 

With many troubles as you sees, 
Was I for years the cruel victim, 

And thought no end of doctor's fees, 
Till got this ring, then out I kick'd 'em. 
O yes I did. 

The plain gold ring no longer will be 

Used for matrimonial bliss, 
Instead of which, I'm sure you'll soon see 

It replaced by one like this. 
yes you will. 



90 



PARODY. 

Tune—" Marble halls. " 
— ♦ — 

I dreamt that I lay in a stable-loft, 

With trusses of hay by my side, 
And of all those assembled who at me scorT'd, 

Young Barney alone did not chide. 
My father aroused and blamed me most, 

Call'd me something I dare not name, 
But I also dreamt, which I own is my boast, 

That Barney to me was the same. 

I dreamt as I lay in the loft above, 

The horses below were a neighing, 
And that Dicky the ostler said he was in love ; 

I said, " Now mind what you are saying, 
For Barney will drop upon you unawares 

If he hears you thus spouting so free ; " 
But says Dicky, says he, " As for Barney who cares, 

Let me know which you like, him or me ? " 



PARODY. 9] 

I told him that Barney was five foot ten, 

And that he was not knock-kneed ! 
He replied, if he was not so tall, why what then ? 

From a wen in his neck he was freed. 
Moreover than that, he assured me again, 

That his love for me was extreme, 
But all he could say I held in disdain, 

Then awoke I and found it a dream. 



92 



OLD NICK'S PEREGRINATIONS. 

Tune — " King of the Cannibal Islands." 

— ♦ — 

The devil call'd in council hall 
His ministers both great and small, 
And told them he intended soon 
To travel incog, this side the moon. 
He appointed one to be his chief, 
Who on earth had been the greatest thief, 
And qualified to fill his place, 
And wield for. a time the demon's place ; 
There was Moloch and his son, good lack ! 
Great Beelzebub with hump on back, 
And lots of devils black and blue 
That help'd to form th' infernal crew. 
Poke um, stoke um, fiddle dum de, 
Twiggle um, chisel um, ri turn te, 
Old Nick has gone his friends to see, 
With invite to his Black Island. 



OLD NICK'S PEREGRINATIONS. 

When thus assembled he began 
To inform them of his royal plan, 
To have a freak on earth for a time, 
And egg them on to further crime. 
He had a case made for his tail, 
To hide from those he might assail, 
And made to represent a stick, 
None thought it held the tail of Nick ; 
A Persian's cap his head adorns, 
To keep from sight his pair of horns ; 
Long trousers and half-boots so neat, 
That viewless were his cloven feet. 

A sprightly imp to be his page 
He did select from out the cage, 
And deck'd him out so fine and gay, 
Look'd like a chummy on May Day. 
They sallied forth with spirits bright, 
By spirits cheer'd till out of sight, 
Instead of going up the Rhine, 
Made his debut from a coal mine. 
To see the world was his desire, 
He felt his soul was all on fire, 
Gay London was the place he chose, 
The scene of crime you may suppose. 

His note book now he did con o'er, 
Not having been on earth before, 



94 OLD NICK'S PEREGRINATIONS. 

How to proceed in his career, 

And best where he could find good cheer. 

His nature being rather hot, 

Took lodgings at a baker's shop, 

And said he should require the key, 

Being very fond of song and glee. 

He had a list from those below 

Of places where they used to go ; 

And begg'd of him as 'twere a boon, 

To visit first the gay saloon. 

He went and pleasure beam'd upon 
His face that he should meet the ton ; 
He christen'd it his nursing shop, 
Which beat by chalks Old Bailey's drop. 
He told his page to call at ten 
And bring his upper Benjamin, 
As he was bent upon a prowl, 
Tho' days were fair, the nights were foul. 
He supper call'd and ask'd what they 
Could let him have without delay ; 
A plain boil'd chicken was replied, 
Devill'd chicken he knew that implied. 

His supper brought, call'd for Cayenne, 
Cruet emptied, caused to stare the man, 
Who thought his palate could not last, 
So quickly down his throat it pass'd. 



OLD NICK'S PEREGRINATIONS. 95 

He paid his bill, then made a bolt, 
The marquis thought he was no colt, 
And said in fun when he had left 
They felt like of a friend bereft. 
The Coal Hole next was on his list, 
Night being cold could not resist, 
It sounded warm whether so or not, 
And proved as he had thought quite hot. 

The room soon fill'd as he got in, 
When calling for a pint of gin, 
Which caused them all at him to stare, 
And took him for an uncouth bear. 
One draught and then it disappear' d, 
He'd have a fit some were afear'd ; 
But when he call'd to have it fill'd 
It was denied ; but he self-will' d, 
Said he'd indict the house if they 
Refused when he'd the means to pay ; 
He said he'd have whate'er he liked, 
Then out he pull'd a massive pipe. 

The bowl it held a pound of shag, 

He raised a cloud which stopped their mag ; 

They cough' d and swore 'twould be their death, 

A sulphurous smell which stopp'd their breath. 

His object was to keep incog, 

And having taken so much grog, 



OLD NICK'S PEREGRINATIONS. 

Without disguising him at all, 

They felt annoy d and show'd much gall, 

By funking them with nasty weed, 

They said he was of vulgar breed. 

A storm was brewing 'mong the folk, 

So out he bolted through the smoke. 

To have a drop of something short, 
He soon was to the finish brought, 
Where cabman call'd for ruin blue 
Which put him in a precious stew. 
Just as he was about to sup, 
Old Nick he caused it to flare up, 
Which singed his nose and whiskers too, 
Down went the rest of mountain dew. 
The man prostrate in his best fustian, 
All thought that he'd died of combustion ; 
They call'd police to bring their stretcher, 
While others went his wife to fetch her. 

The devil having run his rigs, 
Said home he'd go to please the pigs, 
To see the tunnel that way bent, 
Then bored a hole and down he went. 
The cause of this was never known, 
Thereby deceived was all the town. 
They thought the water came from roof, 
Not having any further proof. 



OLD NICK'S PEREGEINATIONS. 97 

From springs Artesian 'tis most true, 
And not from top, as told to you, 
Which caused this terrible mishap, 
And for a time fill'd up the gap. 



98 



A NEW DISCOVERY. 

Tune — "Miss Bailey." 

Come listen to the wonders that 

I am about to tell you soon, 
Of what there now is taking place 

In another planet call'd the moon. 
Great Herschel has with science bold 

And powerful magnifiers, 
Discover' d houses made of gold 
And children with their sires. 

O dear, O dear, what shall we do, 
Much better had we been transfix'd, 
Than ever we should have found out 
A country fill'd with lunatics. 

'Tis to be hoped that they have not 
A man like our own Peeping Tom 

With power to look at us as we 

Have from the Cape to look have gone 



A NEW DISCOVERY. 99 

For if they have, we're in a mess, 

Which I will plainly tell to you ; 
They'll find that we in durance vile 

Have kept their subjects not a few. 
O dear, O dear, what shall we do, &c. 

I hope our government, if they 

Should at a future time demand 
Their subjects to be given up, 

Will not come o'er them Captain Grand ; 
For if they warlike be inclined, 

Who knows but we might get the worst, 
By dropping moon-stones on our head ; 

For quarters we cry out the first. 

O dear, O dear, what shall we do, &c. 

The lunatic asylum which 

At Han well now so nobly stands, 
As part of their demands, may wish 

It levell'd to appease their bands ; 
Which just request we ought to yield 

To feelings wounded by our laws, 
As retribution made in time 

May gain for us their warm applause. 
O dear, O dear, what shall we do, &c. 

To gain the assistance of a state 
So much above us would be wise ; 

H 2 



100 A NEW DISCOVERY. 

We might defiance hurl to all, 
If we could make them our allies. 

The art of aerostation will, 

By perseverance, and that soon, 

Enable us no doubt to send 
Ambassadors unto the moon. 

O dear, O dear, what shall we do, &c. 

The great astronomer, while he 

As through his glass was gazing, 
Discover'd to his heart's content 

Fine cattle gently grazing. 
But most that struck his wondering eyes, 

And fill'd him with amazement, 
To see a lovely woman's head 

A looking through a casement. 

O dear, dear, what shall we do, &c. 



I hope their ire we have not raised, 

Already by the course begun, 
Nor think we've on them war declared, 

Mistaking eye-glass for a gun : 
If so, the sooner we explain, 

To gain their approbation, 
And say we only took a glass 

In friendship for their nation. 

O dear, O dear, what shall we do, &c. 



A NEW DISCOVEEY. 101 

The natives of the other sphere 

Are said with wings to be endow'd ; 
Which clearly proves what's oft been said, 

That lunatics are very proud. 
And well they may, and so would you, 

If blest with wings so mighty, 
You'd be as they are said to be, 

Consider'd somewhat flighty. 

O dear, dear, what shall we do, &c. 



102 



THE AMOROUS SEXTON. 

Tune — " Beautiful boy." 

'TWAS in a village not far from our town, 
There lived an old woman of mighty renown ; 
Betty Bundle the midwife, you've heard of her name- 
No one in the county could boast greater fame, 

She was lame of one leg, t'other bandy, 

But yet was remarkably handy ; 

Her temper was like sugar-candy, 

And so thought the sexton Phil Brown. 

He thought that their trades well united might be, 
While he buried the dead, she the living would free ; 
So a constant supply would she make for his spade, 
And by adding the two carry on a brisk trade. 
He had a club foot, but no matter, 
Which 'mongst oyster shells made a sad clatter, 
And a nose no sheep's tail could look fatter, 
But didn't he love her, Phil Brown ! 
He nose [knows] he did. 



THE AMOKOUS SEXTON. 103 

They met at a christening ; he thought that the time 
To make himself spruce and hook her to his line ; 
He poulticed his nose to take off the red 
On that night he resolved he'd propose for her head, 
Her hand I mean. 

He asked her to play double dummy ; 

Says she, "Philly, you're always so funny," 

And their play it was what they call rummy, 

Yet his eye was upon the odd trick. 

They finish'd their rubber, and mightily pleased 

Were they with each other ; her hand then he squeezed, 

And said " Mrs. Bundle, how great is my pleasure ! " 

" Lawk love you," says she, " why, it's measure for measure." 

They settled their matters so truly, 

When they married I don't know for surely, 

Not long, for he got so unruly, 

Did this amorous sexton Phil Brown. 



But courting and wedding are very distinct ; 

In a short time she call'd him the bottle-nosed imp ; 

One word of ill nature soon brought up another, 

He said that Old Nick must have been her twin brother. 

But this could not go on for ever ; 

He said if she from him would sever, 

It then should be his endeavour 

A settlement on her to make. 



104 THE AMOROUS SEXTON. 

She agreed, but her avarice pass'd all belief — 

The half of his earnings to get him relief. 

He consented ; but mark how the artful old codger 

Her cranium bewilder' d, with accounts so did dodge her. 

A book he kept for her inspection, 

So managed to prevent detection, 

And Hobson's choice for her selection, 

A cunning old fox was Phil Brown. 

The odds and the ends, broken coffins and plates, 
He counted for nothing, so nothing abates ; 
For digging a grave he books two and nine, 
But pockets a shilling and says that is mine. 
It was very clear to his autopsy 
That she shortly would die of the dropsy ; 
■ When that occurred won't he get mopsy, 
So thought the grave-digger Phil Brown. 

His hopes and his wishes were brought to a close ; 
He thought himself happy, as you may suppose ; 
But the biter was bit, as the sequel will show, 
Forty pounds she in debt ; what a terrible blow ! 

He knew he must pay every fraction ; 

It drove him almost to distraction, 

Yet still he defied every action, 

Which soon broke the heart of Phil Brown. 



105 



A GLANCE AT VEGETABLE NATURE. 

Of all the pleasing objects with which this earth 
abounds there are none to my fancy more beautiful or 
soul-stirring than Flora's lovely children. You may often 
hear a young lady say I do not keep birds, for if anything 
happened to them from neglect I should never forgive 
myself, little thinking at the same time if she neglected 
attention to her pretty flowers they would die, which 
would comparatively not give her a moment's pang ; and 
why, because she does not believe that flowers feel or 
suffer by neglect as well as birds. Now, I hold a different 
opinion, in spite of what is advanced to the contrary ; and 
yet gardeners are looked upon with humanity and con- 
sidered a very amiable sort of people, that their occupa- 
tion softens the mind and gives a tone of benevolence. 
Now there I differ again ; you cannot certainly call them 
bloodthirsty, but they are plant-thirsty, and are to my 
notion vegetable butchers ; see with what nonchalance 
they perform the operation of grafting, when the most 
innocent and humane of Heaven's best gifts, a lovely girl, 
will look on this act of barbarity with all complacency 



106 A GLANCE AT VEGETABLE NATURE. 

imaginable, little knowing what amount of suffering is 
being inflicted ; yet, after all, in certain cases it may be 
humanity, as it is with the surgeon who gives the patient 
relief. For instance, when a tree is bark -bound, the anguish 
must be great until the vegetable practitioner makes his 
incision ; but I do contend, generally speaking, his hardness 
of heart is not to be matched even by the common butcher, 
for he has an excuse in supplying us with our daily wants, 
but the vegetable monster slices and cuts away for the 
very pleasure of the thing. It is well known they must be 
closely watched (as those who keep gardens can testify), 
or they will cut away for very wantonness and cruelty, and 
instead of lending succour to the tree, in too many cases 
destroy the same, merely for cutting sake, — therefore feel 
perfectly justified in my cutting remarks. It is generally 
understood that neither butchers nor surgeons are allowed 
on juries where life and death are concerned, and shall 
never feel satisfied until they have added another to the 
list of exceptions, namely the vegetable butchers commonly 
called gardeners. 



107 



PASSING EVENTS, 1848. 

Tune — " The good old Days of Adam and Eve. 



Wonders sure will never cease, 
When war's preferr'd instead of peace. 
The cry is for good constitutions, 
For which they string up resolutions ; 
Their object is to get a slice, 
With nought to pay — that is their price ; 
Of all the good things whatsoever 
To call their own is their endeavour. 

Plunder is their rallying cry, 

But all their plots we do defy. 

The French have set a bad example, 
For Louis Philippe a precious sample. 
If Nap they on the nation billet, 
And fancy he the storm can still it, 
They'll find they have been much mistaken, 
And gammon will not save their bacon. 



108 PASSING EVENTS, 1848. 

A despot he will surely prove, 
And find it hard him to remove. 
Oh the folly of our neighbours, 
Thus to encourage the use of sabres. 



The Frankfort Diet tried to tame, 
With all their might and all their main, 
To make the Austrians knuckle down, 
And keep in check the imperial crown ; 
A Deputy was sent from Trieste, 
Which work'd upon them just like yeast; 
His presence caused a general rising, 
So Blain they shot him, much surprising. 
Better had he stay'd at home, 
Than given up his mind to roam. 



The Roman Palace, more the pity, 

Can tell a tale of doleful ditty ; 

With bull-dogs has been sorely pepper'd, 

Where bulls once issued from the shepherd. 

The pope has mizzled off to Malta, 

He being afraid they'll use the altar [halter] 

And which no doubt he'll raise himself, 

When he gets there, to gain some pelf. 

Oh how base the pope to frighten ; 

'Tis doubtful when his days will brighten. 



PASSING EVENTS, 1848. 109 

To England's shores I thought that he 
Would like to come, on land so free ; 
But having gone another way, 
He's very likely long to stay. 
If he should change his mind and come, 
If not by all revered, by some, 
We have a place will keep until a 
Better can find, and call'd Pope's Villa. 

Oh what falling of State, 

There is just now among the Great. 



The Pope forgot the keys of Peter, 
In his hurry to get unto Gaeta ; 
But sent a message to Gallete, 
Prime minister of the Holy City, 
To forward them without delay. 
On receipt of which the very same day, 
He packed them up in paper brown, 
Directed not to be turn'd down. 

This art was used to avoid discovery; 

If seized, would have been past recovery. 



The Continent is in a mess, 
And what they'll do I cannot guess, 
Unless we send the electric light 
To illumine them in their sad plight. 



110 PASSING EVENTS, 1848. 

They seem much darken'd at the present ; 
Their prospects now are far from pleasant ; 
By putting up some bold reflectors, 
May guide them how to choose protectors. 

Oh ! the light of other days 

Are gone, but this may mend their ways. 



I find that they have just elected 
Prince Louis, which was not expected, 
And thrown the talents in the shade, 
Of those they lately most obey'd, 
And proved they have been rather sappy, 
Not wide awake, but rather nappy ; 
Which, when their dream is past, will find, 
That he is not much to their mind. 
Oh what folly for a name, 
To risk their country's future fame. 



Ill 



BE MERRY AND WISE. 

Our ancestors' boast of the care-killing bowl, 

Which drown all their sorrows and pain, 

I doubt not the moment enlivens the soul, 

But the antidote causes the bane. 

By indulging too much in the salient draught, 

They cause what they try to destroy, 

With their hip, hip, hurra, many bumpers are quafY'd 

Which brings headache, the morning's annoy. 
Therefore take this motto, that when you arise, 
You may say to your friend, we've been merry and wise. 

A glass with a friend to enliven the same, 
Adds zest to the song and the glee, 
Of the Troubadour's lay to his courtly dame, 
Or knight on his palfrey free. 

But prudence must guide you, then long will it last ; 
Have happiness always in view, — 
No cares for the morrow, no regrets for the past, 
And with rapture each day will renew. 
Therefore take this motto, &c. 



112 BE MERRY AND WISE. 

Let no selfish feeling e'er enter your mind ; 
Be careful, yet generous too ; 
As far as your means, be to poverty kind, 
And the blessings of all be your due. 
By imparting to others some joys of your own, 
Which nature so lavish has given, 
A rich crop of pleasures for you will be sown, 
And your final reward be in heaven. 
Therefore take this motto, &c. 



113 



A FACT. 

A MIDDLE-AGED man with inquisitive mind 

Had a turn for mechanics you'll presently find ; 

At Dover he saw the velocipedes pass, 

Too quick for inspection, too transient alas ! 

But his soul was alive to find out the maker, 

To scrutinise closely this modern fiacre ; 

He ask'd of a man whom he met all about 

The place where they let the velocipedes out. 

" The what did you say 1 " stammer'd out the old fellow ; 

" Velos ! ha ! ha ! ha! Velos," he did bellow. 

" I mean," said the gent, " the machines that are used 

By the sparks about Dover who seem much amused." 

" Oh ! ho ! I begin now to smell out a rat, 

If you turn down that street you'll come on to it pat ; 

No, go in Ship Street ; there are plenty for hire, 

All sorts and all sizes that you may desire." 

But what his surprise when he came to the dwelling, 

'Twas that sort of house which will not bear the telling ! 



114 



THE MAN WHO NEVER COULD LAUGH. 

Tune — " The King of the Cannibal Islands." 

A MAN there was who never could laugh, 
However around his friends did quaff, 
They tried all manner of fun, but no, 
For all they did it was no go ; 
His mug it scarcely could relax, 
No more than any figure of wax, 
For a barren soil they were working in, 
Instead of a smile 'twas a frightful grin. 
They took him to the play-house, where 
The funniest things only made him stare ; 
Not a smile was seen on the face of care 
Of this man who never could laugh. 

Ha! ha! 

Paul Bedford heard of his coming one night ; 
Miss Woolgar with him, and likewise Wright, 
Laid their heads together what they could do 
To raise the spirits of one so blue. 



THE MAN WHO NEVER COULD LAUGH. 115 

They tried their hardest and hammer'd away, 
The audience convulsed to the end of the play ; 
But the risible muscles were never seen 
To rise in the face of Mister Green. 
They gave it up as a desperate case ; 
Soon after was seen to leave his place, 
To regale himself with some half-and-half, 
Did this man who never could laugh. 

Ha ! ha ! 

His heart was soft tho' his face was hard, 
To a tale of distress he'd melt like lard ; 
They wish'd him spliced, no hope had they, 
Any one would say to him obey, — 
His sombre face would never do, 
With any lady fair to woo, 
Unless 'twas one who'd lost her sight, 
And then no matter how great the fright. 
They tried all things, but none, alas, 
Would do, not e'en the laughing gas ; 
The faces he made 'twas awful to see, 
Did this man who never could laugh. 

Ha! ha! 

It seem'd a smile was an awful sin, 
At least it appear' d it was to him ; 
The only sensation he ever described, 
If amused, was always a stitch in the side ; 

i 2 



116 THE MAN WHO NEYER COULD LAUGH. 

No doubt that was his inward glee — 
A strange effect you'll all agree — 
Gave token to him when he was pleased, 
A sort of frustration like one who sneezed. 
The mirth of his friends only gave him pain, 
Therefore to give pleasure was all in vain ; 
They pitied while they pitch'd their chaff 
To the man who never could laugh. 

Ha ! ha ! 

This serious man was taken ill, 
They tried all sorts of draught and pill, 
But nothing seem'd to do him good, 
Nor what he took in shape of food. 
His die was set a hopeless case, 
Therefore they wish'd mask of his face, 
As it would be a curious model, 
To have a cast from such a noddle. 
It was proposed to him, but he 
Refused, not knowing what could be 
Their motive for so queer a wish, 
From a man who never could laugh. 

Ha! ha! 

He died, not having gain'd their ends, 
Instead of which to make amends, 
Took him to get, not being afear'd, 
Daguerreotype from Mr. Beard. 



THE MAN WHO NEVEE COULD LAUGH. 117 

If you should want to have a look, 
At No. 50 in the book 
Of Madam Tussaud there you'll find, 
In room of horrors to your mind, 
A visage of the Quixote mould, 
If to the room you've courage bold 
To enter and behold the phiz 
Of a man who never could laugh. 

Ha ! ha ! 



118 



THE FORSAKEN. 

Fak, far away my lover flies, 
To other lands, to other skies, 

His absence I bemoan. 
My early love he sought and won, 
My fondest hopes are now undone, 

To sorrow left alone. 

His tender vows, his love sincere, 
Confiding did to me appear, 

Alas for Fate's decree ! 
Another one had gain'd his heart, 
And left in mine a canker' d dart, 

Oh never to be free. 

Farewell all hopes of future bliss, 
No thought I had of woe like this, 

All joys for ever fled. 
My wounded heart is rent in twain. 
By him once loved, now his disdain ; 

Ah me that I were dead ! 



119 



PARODY. 

Tune— " In this Old Chair." 

— ♦ — 

In this old wig for many a year, 
My father's head was seen. 
I've often heard my mother scold, 
Unlike a lady — scream. 
I think I see him curling it, 
Upon that round and ample knee, 
While mother was regaling him, 
With tones alas, too free, 
With tones alas, too free. 

The reason of their homely broils, 

Was caused by Nancy Briggs, 

Who, mother thought, without good grounds, 

With father ran her riggs. 

But oh, she was delusion's goose, 

He never stoop' d to Nance, to Nance, 

But once when her shoe string got loose, 

And then he look'd askance, 

And then he look'd askance. 



120 PARODY. 

It was the last wig that he wore, 
While memory brings a tear 
To see it once upon the floor, 
By mother he loved dear. 
She snatch' d it off and flared away, 
And said her love was lost on him ; 
With foot upon it there it lay, 
His cup of woe fill'd to the brim, 
His cup of woe fill'd to the brim. 

But now he's gone she felt for that, 

Which was his daily care, 

And puts the wig into his hat, 

And fancies he is there ; 

But when she found he'd left no will, 

And mother mother got her thirds, 

She in the garden had it put, 

To scare away the birds, 

To scare away the birds. 



121 



THE COUNTRY MAIDEN. 



I WILL first get consent of my sire, 
And then I will marry the Squire, 
Who tells me he's fiU'd with desire 
To make me his wife, his own Ria. 

I hope he is true and sincere ; 
I fancy I've nothing to fear, 
His character stands well I hear, 
And I think from deception he's clear. 

No fortune he asks, which looks well, 
That he loves me but still cannot tell, 
How long it may last the love's spell ; 
Pray advise a poor innocent belle. 

If he was unkind I should pine, 
And regret that he ever was mine. 
Still his letters to me are sublime — 
I think I shall write him a line. 



122 



ON THE DEATH OF TWO CHILDREN BY 
DROWNING. 

Wheke shall I solace find ? 

Not in this vale of tears, 
But in the realms of bliss above, 

Where end all hopes and fears. 
I dread ere long my brain will turn, 

Before the eventful day 
Shall waft my spirit far from hence, 

To join their heavenly lay. 
Where still I hope at last to meet 

Those loved ones of my heart, 
Too early snatch' d away from me, 

By Death's relentless dart. 
No kindly helping hand was nigh, 

To soothe those hours of woe, 
No one to clasp those fragile forms, 

Or stem the water's flow. 
With anguish'd minds the cherubs call'd 

Upon their mother dear ; 
Alas, no mother heard their cry, 

They sink o'erwhelm'd with fear. 



123 



GENEROSITY. 

The feeling heart no medium knows, 

In answering pity's call, 
With generous zeal his soul o'erflows, 

To raise up those who fall. 
Distress may overtake the best, 

The affluent, just, and wise ; 
Therefore to succour those opprest, 

His bounteous hand supplies. 

But to protect this humane man 

From fraud's deceitful snares, 
That local meetings were began, 

To lighten misery's cares ; 
And give the poor, whose hopes and fears, 

When strength and powers are gone, 
A solace in declining years, 

And thus their days prolong. 



124 



THE HAPPY MAN. 

I AM a most fortunate man, 

My troubles they come and they go, 
And have a most excellent plan, 

To stave off misfortunes and woe ; 
That is, to take things as they come, 

And not to meet troubles half way ; 
'Tis not the case I know with some, 

Who of pleasure can ne'er see a ray. 

I like a good play, tol re rol, 

And not o'er particular to boot, 
Nor strait-laced and stiff, like old Noll, — 

Bad indeed must it be if I hoot. 
Then a ball's my delight 'tis so charming, 

For do not I love to be merry ? 
And to dance with the girls there's no harm in, 

Arn't I lively and frisky ? yes, werry. 



THE HAPPY MAN. 125 

Then to Vauxhall, or fete days, at Chiswick, 

It matters not which of the two ; 
Or by water to Garden of Physic, 

Which every one knows is at Kew. 
Then the races at Epsom I like, 

Such a lark on the road, goodness gracious ! 
And then there's such fun at the pike ; 

Don't go if at all you're pugnacious. 

Good humour's the key to be happy, 

Never leave so much value behind ; 
He that wants it is what I call sappy, 

And proves he is wanting in mind. 
So go on to the end of the page, 

You'll find it is good for your health, 
And never get into a rage ; 

Such maxims are better than wealth. 

I am now in my fifty-first year, 

And as for a spree fond as ever ; 
Then for ailments have nothing to fear, 

That they my enjoyments will sever. 
I ought to get married ; but no, 

So many would feel disappointed ; 
I can only have one you all know, 

Or be put down among the anointed. 



126 



LOVE AND GEATITUDE. 

I LOVE my Cloe and her mother, 
Fondly the one, esteem the other ; 
Why should I not regard them both, 
Thro' whom was gain'd my plighted troth ? 
They gave consent and eased my heart 
From inroads made by Cupid's dart ; 
Therefore say that I love them well, 
For joys like mine no one can tell. 



127 



A SIMILE. 

The ocean looked like a starlight night turned into day, 
and appeared as if those luminous bodies had left their 
Heavenly abode to revel on the surface of the water 
below. 



128 



MADRIGAL. 



Chloka is weeping, 
No lover is greeting. 
He, faithless and cruel, 
Calls Delia his jewel, 
And leaves her in sorrow, 
No hopes for the morrow. 
Her charms are neglected, 
She wanders dejected, 
And pines by a willow, 
The moss bank her pillow. 
Unpitying he parted, 
She dies broken hearted. 



129 



A ROMANCE. 

A youth of most respectable family, but loose turn of 
mind, formed associations with several young men of good 
education, like himself, but of extravagant habits, who led 
a most reckless course of life, going on from one crime to 
another, until they at last formed the desperate resolution 
of committing a burglary, by breaking into the house of a 
wealthy and amiable gentleman, situated in a lonely part 
of an adjacent county to the one they lived in. The 
better to avoid detection it was agreed one of them should 
go armed, not with the intention of using the arms, but, 
as they termed it, in self-defence. To prevent, in case of 
need, either of them being captured, they drew lots who 
should carry the deadly weapons, which fell upon young 
Fairfield, who was to keep guard or sentry while the 
others robbed the house. When in the act of making 
an entry, the gentleman was aroused, and made his way 
out by a back window, which opened on to a flight of steps 
leading to the lawn where Fairfield was posted, who, 
finding they were likely to be taken (by the gentleman 
alarming his servants), fired a pistol to warn his friends, 



130 A ROMANCE. 

which unfortunately took a fatal direction. Being quite 
dark, the report enabled the others to effect a retreat before 
the domestics made their appearance. No traces could be 
found of the criminals. From that moment Fairfield was 
the most unhappy of the unhappy; with all his faults 
(and they were legion), he was not a murderer at heart, and 
his remorse of conscience was bitter in the extreme. Some 
years had elapsed, when he formed the resolution of 
making all the atonement in his power, and devote the 
remainder of his misspent life to serve that family whose 
happiness he had so cruelly destroyed ; he got engaged as 
a domestic, and in the course of a few years had (regard- 
less of life) done such signal services by saving the lives of 
two children from fire and drowning, with many other acts 
of devotion (which Providence threw in his way), that he 
was held in the highest veneration by the whole family, 
who would have pensioned him off with a handsome 
income, had he not always steadily refused it, feeling his 
task could never be completed while life remained. After 
the lapse of eighteen years, — if it were possible to atone for 
so serious a crime, he had atoned, — one of his companions 
who had been abroad for many years, returned to his 
native country, and being attacked with a serious fit of 
illness which brought on the fear of death, made a full 
disclosure to the clergyman, who was an old friend of the 
murdered gentleman ; the result was, the officers of justice 
were dispatched to take Fairfield into custody. You may 
judge what were the feelings of the aged widow and family, 



A ROMANCE. 131 

who had looked upon Fairfield (of course under another 
name) as their guardian angel. On that solemn occasion 
he was put upon his trial, found guilty, with the commi- 
seration of the whole court, and died of a broken heart 
immediately after the verdict was pronounced. 



K 2 



132 



A SURPRISE MOVEMENT. 



(NOT HAYDN'S.) 

— ♦ — 



A MOUSE nibbling away the string of a spruce-beer 
bottle, the cork flying out with a bang sent him bottom 
over top to the further end of the cellar. 



133 



A MISER'S APOLOGY FOR SAVING MONEY. 



At any rate you can't call me a selfish man, for I save 
money for others to spend instead of doing so myself ; now 
the selfish man in my humble opinion, is he who spends 
the whole of his income on himself. 



134 



THE LETTER BEGGAR'S PETITION. 

Pity the man who never liked to work, 
Which with his constitution did not well agree ; 
Who felt degraded and would always shirk, 
As base to one a Briton born as he. 

No slavery could he ever brook, 
But living on his wits from day to day ; 
The common ways of life he then forsook, 
So author turn'd, but never wrote a play. 

His line was serious, pathetic to excess : 
A widower with blessed babes so small ; 
Sometimes his claims would thus express, 
That he a tradesman had by fire lost all. 

As actor, many parts in life had play'd, 
But never sought applause for what he did ; 
He only sought their pockets when he said, 
I am a clergyman with wife bed-rid. 



THE LETTER BEGGAR'S PETITION. 135 

Another time, two children deaf and dumb, 
And others had he with the croop laid up ; 
Expecting every day the bailiff's bum, 
To seize for rent, and fill his bitter cup. 

His seedy coat, with clean and white cravat, 
Betokening better days long past away ; 
With well brush' d, worn, and napless hat, 
Told many a tale of sorrow and decay. 

Thus had he all along by trick and fraud, 
Imposed upon the charitable and good ; 
At last was caught, and sent abroad, 
To eke out life upon the felon's food. 



136 



WRITTEN FROM A VINEYARD IN 
MR. POITRE'S GROUNDS, 

NEAR GENEVA, FACING MONT BLANC, 7th SEPTEMBER, 1844, 

GORGEOUS Alps ! by nature form'd, 
To cause such wonder and delight ; 
With snow thy summits are adorn' d, 
Unchanged by day, unchanged by night. 

The monster mountain of them all, 
To thee, Mont Blanc, I reverence pay ; 
When gazing at thy snow white pall, 
Reflected by the sun's bright ray. 

Or from the Lake Leman to view, 
Thy shadow by the moon's pale beam ; 
Or evening tint of azure blue, 
While gently gliding down the stream. 

Nature at every turn doth show, 
The great Creator's power and might ; 
The towering peaks, the river's flow, 
The feather'd songsters in their flight. 



WRITTEN FROM A VINEYARD. 137 

O, who can doubt Thy will sublime, 
With evidence of Nature's laws ? 
The rainbow's tint, the flowers divine, 
All show Thou art the Great First Cause. 



138 



TOETOLOGY. 



I HAVE a project in my mind, 
Most philanthropic that it is ; 
And mean to write to Jenny Lind, 
To take some shares before they're riz. 
Because I'm sure when once they know 
That she has join'd the Good Intent, 
Her very name will plainly show, 
We're not alone on profit bent. 

Toes, toes, toes, 
To emancipate, we contemplate, 

Toes, toes, toes. 

Emancipation's all the rage, 
And so it should, we all agree, 
What has been done our history's page 
Will show how we the blacks set free. 
The pain of mind no doubt is great, 
When we reflect on slavery's woes ; 



TOETOLOGY. 139 

But what is that to their hard fate, 
Where crippled up are all their toes ? 
Toes, toes, &c. 

Now what I want is to get up, 
A course of agitation, 
To alter those base China laws, 
Disgrace to any nation. 
The ladies, sure, will lend a hand, 
Their noble sex to cherish, 
To give them all a firmer stand, 
Which we will do or perish. 
Toes, toes, &c. 

Perhaps they may wish us to concede, 
The half of what we're going for, 
By having only one foot freed, 
The other left as 'tis by law. 
No compromise will do, 'tis clear, 
For we will have the whole or none ; 
Therefore must work upon their fear, 
Until they can both walk and run. 
Toes, toes, &c. 

Corn cutters will be overjoy'd, 
When we have open'd China's trade, 
Such numbers then will get employ'd, 
That soon they'll have their fortunes made. 



140 TOETOLOGY. 

Corn rubbers will be up in price. 
Such great demand for them will be ; 
When shipp'd, will be sold in a trice, 
And orders sent for more, you see. 
Toes, toes, &c. 

Our ministers no doubt will aid, 
As far as Duty will permit, 
The British fair, both wife and maid, 
In charity so firmly knit. 
Because the Funds will not be raised, 
To swell the amount of Nation's Debt ; 
By all the land we should be praised, 
And only the Celestials fret. 
Toes, toes, &c. 

The dancing masters, too, must feel 
Elated at the plan proposed, 
For millions soon will toe and heel, 
Which ne'er before had been supposed. 
The trade in hops will be increased, 
Which will resound from Pole to Pole ; 
When they have got their feet released, 
We need no longer them condole. 
Toes, toes, &c. 

How pleased their Mars, to see their Pars, 
Will be when dancing with Whang Fong, 



TOETOLOGY. 141 

Their daughters will come out like stars, 
From Shanghae, Pekin, to Hong Kong. 
The polka, too, will have its day ; 
'Mongst those yclept Celestials, 
As French would say be " toujours " gay, 
As 'tis with the Terrestrials. 

Toes, toes, toes, 
Most sanguine we, to get set free, 

Toes, toes, toes. 



142 



A FRAGMENT. 



The diamond spray, the diamond spray, 
Oh, how I love the diamond spray ! 
Created by sunbeams on waters bright, 
Studding its surface with floods of light. 
Thus sparkles the dawn of early life, 
Smilingly buoyant 'midst scenes of strife ; 
Still onward he goes when the ripples appear. 
That chequers the path of his bright career ; 
His hopes like the watery gems depart, 
Leaving a blank in his lonely heart. 



143 



BILLY BOKTJE. 

Tune—" Molly Carew." 

Oh, oh, oh, I'm going to tell you of Billy Borne, 

Whom most of you knew. 
He had a tall brother, a queer sort of blade, 
And both were brought up to the chaff-cutting trade 
Both he and his brother were by the same mother, 

But who was their father 's not known. 
He courted Miss Biddle who play'd on the fiddle, 
And for puff pie and tart, no lass was more smart. 
His brother had cast upon her his rough gaze, 
And when he proposed did her much amaze. 
She told him to cease, if he valued his peace, 

As Billy was choice of her heart. 

Oh, oh, dangers near, 

He vow'd he'd do something severe. 

Oh, oh, oh, said she, Billy Borue, I love you, I do, 

But there's snakes in the grass. 
I'd have you look out for your brother, that bear, 
He said he'd do something which bristled my hair. 



144 BILLY BOEUE. 

He's plotting your ruin, and put me a stew in, 

To think what he's going to do. 
He said all so cruel, he'd give you your gruel, 
For crossing his suit, he did, the big brute ; 
But I rather would have just the tip of your ear, 
Than the whole of his carcase, my own Billy dear ; 
But what he will do I cannot tell you, 

Because I don't know it myself. 

Oh, oh, dangers near, 

He vow'd he'd do something severe. 

Oh, oh, oh, poor Billy Borue, he turn'd rather blue, 

Said what shall I do ? 
His brother had kept him in fear all his life, 
And now his own Kitty he wanted for wife ; 
But he would pluck up, be no longer his butt, 

And tell him a bit of his mind. 
Will you go to the fair ? says Billy, says he. 
Yes, with you anywhere, was the answer of she. 
If you will be ready I'll meet you at six, 
When we can arrange and our wedding-day fix. 
Delighted and blushing, her face over flushing, 

She thought it the best he could do. 

Oh, oh, never fear, 

Billy vow'd that his love was sincere. 



BILLY BORUE. 145 



THE SCEIMMAGE. 



Oh, oh, oh, they went to the fair, met many they knew. 

Big Michael was there ; 
He scowl' d, and they fear'd he a quarrel would make, 
And saw by his looks he with passion did shake. 
They enter' d a tent, his steps that way bent, 
And planted himself right in the front. 
The music was playing, " We'll all go a Maying," 
The dancers went fast in the gallop at last, 
When he, like a dastard, push'd out his big toe, 
Which tripp'd up poor Kitty and Billy the Beau. 
While there they lay sprawling and loudly were bawling, 
He misled away unperceived, 
Oh, oh, all serene : 
Thus ended his spite and his spleen. 



14G 



PASTORAL SONG. 



Phyllis, always happy, when 
Her lover Corydon was nigh, 
O'er the mead or through the glen, 
Like Zephyr's breathing softest sigh ; 
But, when absent, how dejected 
Was this fair and fragile flower, 
Pining that she was neglected, 
When he came not to her bower. 

My Phyllis dear, why me so doubting, 
When I thus appear in sight ? 
Why those pretty lips so pouting, 
When you are my soul's delight ? 
The flocks had wander' d from my keeping, 
Which caused me trouble and dismay, 
While up and down the pets were seeking ; 
That accounts for my delay. 



147 



THE MISSIONARY. 

Tune — "Yankee Doodle." 

I AM off to California, 

Try my luck at digging, 
Being now an alter'd man, 

And mean to leave off prigging. 
Do you know the reason why, 

Because I think it sinful, 
Having one night had a call, 

While snoring with a skinful 
Old Bogy came to urge me on, 

An angel stopp'd his bother, 
And drove him out with sword in hand,- 

Never was there such a pother. 
Tol, lol, lol, &c. 

I know who is the master now, 

The angel beat the devil, 
A thing I never knew before,. 

Because in crime did revel. 



L 2 



148 THE MISSIONARY. 

I'll try and fetch up for lost time, 

So turn a Missionary, 
And study well the usual whine, 

To catch all the unwary. 
I'll dig and preach, and preach and dig, 

Which e'er will suit my purpose ; 
And for the Beaks don't care a fig, 

Nor snobs of any workhouse. 
Tol, lol, lol, &c. 

My long lank mug is suited well 

The calling that I've chosen ; 
When down I send them all pell mell, 

My look is most imposing. 
With hair so straight and face so white, 

It frightens every sinner, — 
Large teeth that seem just fit to bite, 

I must come out a winner. 
I'll walk into their gold dust surely, 

To save them from perdition, 
Say to my flock the more they give, 

'Twill better their condition. 
Tol, lol, lol, &c. 

My nest I'll feather thus, you see, 
And leave the place at leisure, 

Or perhaps they'll find lynch law for me, 
So nibble all my treasure. 



THE MISSIONARY. 149 

I'll cut and run before they find 

What has been my vocation, 
Or some may come not quite so blind, 

To expose my edication. 
I now am very pious grown, 

And mean to found a college ; 
My seeds of crime shall be well sown, 

To improve the rising knowledge. 
Tol, lol, lol, &c. 



150 



PERCEPTION. 



'Twas not her form, 'twas not her face, 

Perfection though they be ; 
Oh no, it was that winning grace, 

Which chain' d her heart to me ; 
Her mental worth beyond compare, 

Alone would solace give, 
But when combined with charms so rare, 

Who would not wish to live ? 

For years we've lived, for years we've loved, 

Such bliss no one can tell, — 
My early choice, which since has proved, 

I knew, yes, knew her well, 
That no deceit could dwell within 

A breast so pure, so true : 
Great God, that gave me power to win 

A mind where virtue grew. 



151 



THE CIVIL ENGINEER. 

Tune — " Jolin Day." 

It is of Jim the driver on 

The great North-Western line, 
Whose fame's oft quafT'd in bumpers strong, 

I speak now of his prime. 
Soon after, when they were allow'd 

Their whiskers for to grow, 
Jim's heart, at which, oh, how it glow'd, 

To do it was not slow. 
Tiddy, tol lol tol la. 

A glorious pair soon Jim had got, 

Likewise his stoker too, 
To warm their chests and keep quite hot, 

Were scarcely match' d by few. 
They were admired by all the maids, 

Who served the cakes and sherry, 
And envied were by other blades, 

Because with them so merry. 
Tiddy, tol, &c. 



152 THE CIVIL ENGINEER. 

Jim's bushy beard required a comb, 

He never lack'd the same ; 
When he arrived it was well known, 

Then out the comb it came. 
She clear'd it out of all the grits 

That congregated there, 
All with those pretty hands in mits, 

The fairest of the fair. 
Tiddy, tol, &c. 

And when he left she felt alone, 

Like one who has lost the mail, 
And pensive looks upon the comb, 

As bars of any jail. 
While as he scuds along with glee, 
Oh, how his beard it flows, 
■ And like the ploughman o'er the lea, 
Can whistle as he goes. 
Tiddy, tol, &c. 

Our Jim had courage like a lion, 

Was never known to fear, 
And was the last man for to try on, 

To chouse, this engineer. 
No rival had he, for they knew 

His pluck no one could match, 
And none near Nancy ever drew, 

Nor tried his love to catch. 
Tiddy tol, &c. 



THE CIVIL ENGINEER. 153 

He was so bland and kind to all, 

A general favourite he, 
And when he made his usual call, 

Though him they could not see; 
They hail'd his coming with delight, 

This civil engineer, 
And to their greetings said " All right," 

Then brought him out his beer. 
Tiddy, tol, &c. 

The engine that he drove' was call'd, — 

Unlike their usual names, 
Which often have the nerves appall'd 

Of sensitive old dames ; 
The Rose-Bud of the Valley his, 

A name to please his fancy ; 
But some, mayhap, the same may quiz, — 

Not he — he thought of Nancy. 
Tiddy, tol, &c. 

And now he's shunted off the line 

By Time's unsparing hand ; 
But still all good he doth combine, 

Integrity's his stand. 
His Nancy with him keeps an inn, 

Upon the line he driv, 
And much of that stuff call'd the tin, 

Have saved, yet much they give. 
Tiddy, tol, &c. 



154 THE CIVIL ENGINEER 

MORAL. 
So now I've told you all about 

A pair in humble state, 
Whose virtues surely none can doubt 

May you deserve their fate ! 
This lesson I would have you learn — 

Be cheerful, false to none, 
And vile seducers from you spurn, 

But firm and true to one. 



155 



RETRIBUTION. 

To arms ! to arms ! to arms ! 

And raise the standard high ; 
Though sad are war's alarms, 

Yet tyrants must defy, 
Who seek with iron hand 

To subjugate the weak, 
Send carnage in their land, 

And vengeance on them wreak. 

Oh, who can tell, but those who feel 

The horrors of a camp, 
A hostile foe with fire and steel, 

Their legions' measured tramp ? 
With pale despair their fears increase, 

The frantic mothers weep, 
And leave their homes, once blest with peace, 

To find a safe retreat. 



156 RETBIBUTION. 

The day of retribution's come, 

The Gauls and Saxons fly- 
To succour those whose hearts are wrung, 

And for their homesteads sigh ; 
To rescue them from foreign sway, 

They rush with sword in hand, 
Leave for a time those orbs of day, 

The lovely of their land. 



157 



TRUE FRIENDSHIP. 

Written on the Occasion of inviting Eleven Male Friends to 
a Whitebait Feast at the Crown and Sceptre, Green- 
wich, 16th June, 1854. 

Tune — " May-day in the morning." 

This day, sure, I ought to feel happy, 

For around me's a rare jolly set, 
And none can feel drowsy or nappy, 

When we look at the party thus met : 
There's the Governor Cope, full of glee, 

When the beeswing he's trying to fathom, O, 
But never more happy is he, 

Than relieving all those prest with woe, 
Singing, Fiddle fal la la lay. 

Doctor Pettigrew's next on my list, 

Whose friendship I'm proud to acknowledge, 

His urbanity none can resist, 

And for talent he's worthy his college. 

Then John Clinton's the Devil's Own boy, 
Whether playing the flute or a song, 



158 TRUE FRIENDSHIP. 

And when ask'd to do either's not coy ; 
What he gives you it cannot be wrong. 
Singing, Fiddle, &c. 

And now I've a friend in my eye, 

His value so few here can tell, 
Whose charity softens the sigh, 

And dries up all sorrow so well : 
James Evans' the man I now name, 

For all that is noble and good ; 
It's his due that I thus sound his fame, 

And not buried quite under a hood. 
Singing, Fiddle, &c. . 

Then the next that comes under my muse, 

Is Berens and Blumberg, O Gemini ! 
But words cannot give them their dues, 

For such union I can't find a simile ; 
One heart and one mind seem to bind, 

Their friendship perhaps never surpass'd, 
And I do not know where you will find, 

Such an instance from first to the last. 
Singing, Fiddle, &c. 

'Tis pleasant to speak of one's friends, 
Whose integrity no one can doubt, 

The Freeman's unitedly blends 

All that brotherly love can make out. 



TRUE FRIENDSHIP. 159 

Such a triplet you scarcely will find, 

As William with Charley and Frank, 
While each to each other's so kind, 

Vile discord with them is a blank. 
Singing, Fiddle, &c. 

Then there is my friend, Mr. Webb, 

If he will allow me to call him so, 
He's here by good fellowship led, 

To join those any one may be proud to know. 
Then my Brother, though named as the last, 

Not the least is he in my remembrance, 
And from the same mould we were cast, 

Which accounts for a trifling resemblance. 
Singing, Fiddle, &c. 

I am now at the end of my tether, 

Of kind friends who have honour'd my call, 
That now are assembled together, 

At Greenwich, just facing Black wall. 
I feel an apology due, 

And thus your forbearance I ask, — 
But I fancied I pretty well knew 

Your forgiveness would not be a task. 
Singing, Fiddle, &c. 



160 



UNION IS STRENGTH, 



Hail, happy union, long delay' d, 

Foes no more, but friends united ; 
Pledged to lend each other aid, 

And the oppress'd their cause requited. 
Tyrants, tremble when you see 

Great countries join in cause so just ; 
To humble pride, set nations free, 

And make oppressors bite the dust. 

The Northern Despot soon will find, 

What 'tis to rouse those brave defenders, 
Of the weak 'gainst power combined, 

And thus destroy such base offenders. 
The British navy, long renown'd, 

Will hurl defiance at the foe ; 
And hand in hand with France be found 

To strike a quick decisive blow. 



UNION IS STRENGTH. 161 

Long may this holy compact last, 

To curb the proud imperious czar ; 
And may forgotten be the past, 

That kept in 'twain such good to mar. 
Hail France and England ! long may you 

Join heart to heart for Freedom's right, 
That years of peace may now ensue, 

And wars no more the world affright. 



162 



THE TENDER REBUKE. 

Two lovers, near a bank of roses, 

Were fondly planning future bliss, 
And as lie pluck'd the fragrant posies, 
He from the fair one stole a kiss. 
" Forgive me, pray," 
He thus did say. 

She blush'd and blamed the artless youth, 

And chided him, but not severely ; 
" You are too bold," she said, " forsooth ; " 
He said, " You know I love you dearly. 
You know I do, 
And none but you. 

We are engaged, I only seal'd 

The contract that no one can sever ; 
And duly stamp'd what was reveal'd, 
The pledge that I am yours for ever. 
O yes, my love, 
O yes, for ever." 



163 



ACCIDENTS AND OFFENCES. 

A YOUNG prig strutting along with a short nobby stick 
by an unexpected jerk struck his own face. A member of 
the Society for the Suppression of Cruelty to Animals, 
passing at the time, thinking he had struck himself on 
purpose, had him taken before a magistrate and fined five 
shillings for giving himself a black eye. 



M 2 



164 



ABSENCE OF MIND. 

The members of a West-end club in balloting for a new 
member were given two papers marked " yea " and " nay ; " 
it was just at the time of the Chinese war, when Com- 
missioner Yeh's name was (with disgust) in everybody's 
mouth. Two of the members by a strange fatuity tore up 
the paper " yea," and put in the scrutineer's glass the one 
marked "nay." The gentleman was so much respected 
they ballotted for him again, when the mistake was 
discovered. 



165 



THOSE SUNNY HOURS. 



Those sunny hours when first we met, 
How sweet each moment pass'd, 

While memory brings a sad regret, 
That they were not to last. 

We parted, but ah, little knew 
When thus we said farewell, 

That we should ne'er again renew 
Those vows we loved to tell. 

In foreign land my fair one died, 

Far, far from me away, 
And to the last my name she sigh'd, 

Then join'd the heavenly lay. 



166 



FANCY SKETCH. 

In fancy I have often thought, 
What treasures could be left, 
Were Cupid's chains no longer sought, 
And we of love bereft. 

What comfort would this world afford, 
If bright eyes beam'd in vain, 
That now by us are all adored, 
And thus our interest claim. 

The miser, with his thirst for gold, 
Will lose those sunny hours, 
Until the springs of life are old, 
Too late for ladies' bowers. 

The bacchanal who in the glass 
Can pleasure only see, 
And all those joyous hours, alas, 
Leaves nought but misery. 



FANCY SKETCH. 167 

The gamester rushes to his fate, 
With buoyant hopes at first ; 
The die is cast, when he, too late, 
Finds all his prospects cursed. 

So ladies, then, I find that you 
True pleasures only give, 
Whose virtues come like heavenly dew, 
That makes us wish to live. 



168 



AN ACROSTIC. 



Light is my heart, no cares have I, 
Elated, blest, when thou art by, 
The best of wives none can deny : 
I never have had cause to sigh, 
To bless my home you ever try, 
I will vouchsafe until I die, 
And always on you will rely. 



169 



DEDICATED TO AN OLD FRIEND. 

I can't pretend to cope with your prolific pen, 
But for Lang Syne will try and do my best, 
To measure lengths 'gainst fearful odds I ken, 
And enter thus the list with lance in rest. 
'Tis forty years, my buck, since first we met, 
At old Lieven's to study time and measure, 
Yet from the queer and motley set, 
I found, as diggers say, a lode of treasure ; 
An honest man or two for one I sorrow, 
But that's a theme I dare not longer dwell 
Upon, but wish he had lived out the morrow, 
And not forestall'd the usual parting knell. 
Lieven he was a fast man you'll allow, 
And for slow movements never did incline ; 
More like our Jullien revelling in row, 
Who thought Vanhall the primest of the prime. 
The pleasing interlude, the Highland fling, 
Was ever grateful to our wondering eyes ; 
We lived before our time, or else gin sling 
Would have accompanied our savoury pies ; 



170 DEDICATED TO AN OLD FRIEND. 

The fiddle man sworn enemy to flutes, 

The wretched weaver sadly wanting taste, 

Who would have strangled us as worthless brutes, 

If he the power had got, so thought the baste, 

We triumph'd over all our various foes, 

And blow'd an ear ache to the envious man. 

The basso's face elongate show'd his woes, 

With face tied up, the weaver thus began : 

" I cannot hear my fiddle when I play, 

Those horrid flutes drown every other sound." 

'Twas thus we heard him sing his lay, 

Two others join'd the melancholy round, 

When snobby for the nonce did upwards spring, 

And thought he'd go upon his own account. 

So furious did he dance the Highland fling, 

We thought him mad as he did upwards mount ; 

'Tis pleasing to reflect on days gone by, 

With spring of youth, no thought of cold December ; 

Old friendships have a charm for me and why, 

Which for awhile seem'd nothing to remember. 

Because time's crucible has tried the man, 

Whose friendship I admired in early days ; 

That he has proved the same as he began, 

By following up the path of honour's ways. 



171 



FROM FLORA'S LAP. 

Feom Flora's lap I'll cull the flowers, 
Selected from Arcadian bowers ; 
To twine them with her golden hair, 
Such hues as will become my fair ; 
Then lead her forth the pride of May, 
On morning of our wedding day. 
And say who can with her compete, 
With mind so pure and looks so sweet ; 
" Thou happy swain " they all will cry, 
When we shall say to them good-bye. 



172 



SINCERITY. 

I CHERISH in my heart for thee 
The purest love that man can feel, 
And in return, oh, say to me, 
That you'll requite my ardent zeal. 
Then will my spirits mount on high, 
To be beloved by one so true, 
And never more have cause to sigh, 
When I have heaven on earth in you. 



173 



THE HEN-PECK'D HUSBAND. 



Tune— "The Lost Child." 



Fkiend Ned, you've heard that I have just got married, 
"Worse luck for me I wish'd I'd longer tarried ; 
For full particulars so now attend, 
From me your true but miserable friend. 

Oh dear, oh dear, what shall I do ! 

Her voice like thunder makes me fly like lightning, 
I wonder I'm alive with so much frightening ; 
You know I'm five foot four, while she is five foot ten ; 
In Scotland 'twas she nail'd me there and then. 
Oh dear, oh dear, what shall I do ! 

Some whiskey toddy I had been imbibing, 
Which made me unctious, and to her kept sliding ; 
I said I'd have her and a witness heard it, 
She kept me to my word nor long deferr'd it. 
Oh dear, oh dear, what shall I do ! 



174 THE HEN-PECK'D HUSBAND. 

Oh woeful day for me, oh day of bitters, 
Where'er I go there's nothing heard but titters ; 
They pity me and yet they make derision, 
I should be better if in any prison. 

Oh dear, oh dear, what shall I do ! 

I am obliged to cook the meat, although we keep a slavey, 
Wife says she never bastes the joint to keep in all the 

gravy; 
To see me on a sultry day, before a fierce fire blazing, 
And if by chance it gets a scorch, there's no stop to her 

raging. 

Oh dear, oh dear, what shall I do ! 

One day we had a friend to dine, I think his name was 

Wicks, 
She carved the fowls, they took the best, and left me the 

drumsticks. 
To talk of Jerry Sneak, why, he was better off by far, 
I cannot long continue so, but shall go mad, ha, ha, 
Oh dear, oh dear, what shall I do ! 

You know my heart is tender, but I know . 
What some would do to rid them of a foe : 
Why, go to Italy, not having strength to lick her, 
And there employ a bravo for to stick her. 
Oh dear, oh dear, what shall I do ! 



THE HEN-PECK'D HUSBAND. 175 

I'm told I should insure my life, but see no reason why, 
I need not leave it to my wife, but I must tell a lie. 
I do not wish to save my life, but quite the other way, 
If I could but insure my death, I would not long delay. 
Oh dear, oh dear, what shall I do ! 

But no, I must endure, so wait a little longer, 
The weak I've heard sometimes outlive the stronger ; 
So I must now conclude, remember me to Fanny, 
Keceive the kind regards from your friend Sammy. 
Oh dear, oh dear, what shall I do ! 



176 



THE WARRIOR'S RETURN. 

What years have pass'd since last they met, 
What hopes and fears when lovers part ; 
At honour's call there's no regret, 
A double duty binds each heart. 

The youth at last, with laurels crown'd, 
Returns to claim his promised bride ; 
With pride she hears his name resound, 
Who for his country would have died. 

At length the joyous day appears, 
Which joins two hands and hearts together, 
And banishes those doubts and fears, 
That strew'd their path to earthly pleasure. 



177 



A WIFE BY ADVERTISEMENT. 

Tune — " Father Molloy." 

I wanted a wife, so wrote to the " Times," 

And gave them a list of what I required, 

And likewise my own in a very few lines, 

Of qualities all that could be desired. 

I wanted a wife good-looking no doubt, 

And felt it applied to thin, pale, or stout : 

For all thought themselves good-looking I'm sure, 

And legions of answers I got by the lure ; 

For whether they're short, or whether they're tall, 

I said in my note did not matter at all ; 

A companion, not money, was mostly my aim, 

Still the latter of course would add much to our fame. 

Good temper the first, a small income the second, 

Two hundred a-year by me would be reckon 'd 

Sufficient to live like a lady and gent, 

With what little I've got : you ne'er will repent. 

You ne'er will repent, 

You ne'er will repent, 
So therefore have courage, you ne'er will repent. 

N 



178 A WIFE BY ADVERTISEMENT. 

I said that my person was comely and good, 
And as for my face an Adonis might claim 
A temper so even, no troubles have stood, 
To damp or depress, in my pathway to fame. 
A heart like a lion, yet soft as a lamb, 
Domestic inclined and not given to flam, 
For Truth is my motto, a lie I. abhor, 
Dissembling for riches I hold in great awe. 
Therefore if you fancy what I have now stated, 
There's every reason why we should be mated ; 
Besides, if you doubt it don't answer at all, 
Because to be doubted 's more bitter than gall. 
So make up your mind and don't shilly shally, 
But answer at once and not dilly dally ; 
The appointment to be in Hyde Park by Achilles, 
At seven o'clock I will meet my own Phillis. 

I'll meet my own Phillis, 

I'll meet my own Phillis, 
At seven o'clock near the statue Achilles. 

The first that presented herself to my view, 

Was a damsel all blushing and not over young ; 

She limp'd in her gait, but I very well knew 

She the rhino had got other virtues among. 

To account for the same, she said with a sigh, 

When young she was dropt, which I thought all my eye ; 

I answer'd her that didn't matter a crown, 

For her charms they went up while her foot it went down. 



A WIFE BY ADVERTISEMENT. 179 

But on probing the source of her wealth to my sorrow, 

On learning of which, what was my horror, 

To hear that her income was left by a friend, 

With two babbies to boot ; how my hair stood on end ! 

So I cut the acquaintance with many a shrug, 

And thought that we never would do for one rug. 

So answer'd another one's billet I'd got, 

And hoped her escutcheon was free from a blot ; 

It turn'd out quite well, so very soon wed, 

And my scheme it succeeded which most people dread. 

Which most people dread, 

Which most people dread, 
And my scheme it succeeded which most people dread. 



N 2 



180 



THE FLOWER GIRL. 

With the freshness of spring*, 
I compare my loved Mary. 
Her eyes bright as stars, 
And the trip of a fairy. 

So fragrant her breath, 
No violets are sweeter. 
So modest her blush 
When I happen to meet her. 

The cowslip and primrose 
In turn she caresses, 
With rosebuds and blue-bells 
Entwined are her tresses. 

With Flora she revels, 
From morn until night. 
I never feel happy 
When out of her sight. 



181 



TRUE FRIENDSHIP. 



I want a friend I can impart 

My inward soul unto ; 
Lend solace to a wounded heart, 

Brought on for love of you. 
His gentle voice and mental aid 

In time may soothe my care ; 
Make me forget, oh, fickle maid, 

That thou wert ever fair. 

Such friend I've found, no pearl of price 

Can match with one so true, 
His willing, bland, and kind advice, 

Adds freshness like the dew. 
To him I owe my heart thus freed 

From desperation driven ; 
A friend in need 's a friend indeed, 

A solace sent from Heaven. 



182 



CONSCIENCE. 

WRITTEN ON THE OCCASION OF THE ROAD MURDER. 

When gloomy night succeeds the darkling day, 

And the black canopy is spread on high, 
Then crime appears in all its full array, 

Then horrid visions flit before the eye 
Of him who has the laws of God transgress'd, 

Taking the life-blood of his fellow man ; 
Robbing the Deity whose high behest 

Alone can regulate this earthly span. 
There is a time, howe'er the brutal mind 

May parry off and think the deed secure, 
When even he will pangs of conscience find, 

And often feel a load that none can cure. 
So vice with all the subtlety of art 

May baffle for a time the power to know ; 
Yet still the great avenger must impart 

Distracting memories to his aching brow. 



183 



THE DECEIVER. 

I THOUGHT I knew his heart, but now 

I find he has deceived, 
For after plighting many a vow, 

Has left me thus bereaved. 
Another one has gain'd his love ; 

Poor soul, I'm sore afraid 
That she in time like me may prove, 

How false those vows were made. 



184 



HEAVEN'S GIFT, OR HUSH AND LISTEN. 

Set to Music by W. L. Summers. 

Do you know what I most prize ? 

No — then you shall hear ; 
A tender heart without disguise, 

And loving most sincere. 
Do you know the one I've got ? 

No — then hush and listen ; 
Celia is my heavenly lot, 

Whose eyes like sunbeams glisten. 



185 



FLORA'S CHOICE. 

FLORA was thinking of her pets the flowers, 
Which were the choicest in her estimation, 

That deck'd with sylvan grace her lovely bowers, 
The lily, rose, or scented sweet carnation. 

She found it hard to choose while gazing on 
The several beauties of the three selected, 

And pondering well before she flx'd upon 
The two that were by her to be rejected. 

Fair was the lily, but had no perfume, 

The others had, but not that stately form ; 

With tearful eye she thus pronounced the doom ; 
And chose the rose most fitted to adorn. 



186 



THE HALF SECRET. 

A merry little maid am I, 

My sorrows are but brief, 
And if by chance you hear a sigh, 

'Tis not the sigh of grief, 
But something that I can't explain, 

Because you'll think me bold, 
And set me down as very vain, 

If I my secret told. 
I have a secret, that I have, 

If you will not betray, 
Now don't you look so very grave, 

I've given my heart away. 
But who has got it, you can't tell, 

Nor must I let you know. 
All I can say is I'm his belle, 

And that he is my beau. 



187 



ON THE MURDER OF MRS. EMSLY, 

FOR WHICH MULLINS WAS EXECUTED, NOV. 20, 1860. 



Mullins told of Emms a lie, 
That lie had murder' d Emsly. 
But on the tables being turn'd, 
Who was the culprit soon discern'd. 
So in return for what he stated, 
Instead of wealth got elevated. 



188 



AN AUCTION NOT A MOCK AUCTION. 

A RESPECTABLE and handsome young woman, going out 
to Australia, hit upon a novel and shrewd idea of forming 
a matrimonial connection, and that was by putting herself 
up to auction ; she was to be three days on view, of course 
in the company of her friends, to answer any inquiries, 
likewise to elucidate their position in life, and according 
to the particulars of sale, she was not bound to take the 
highest sum offered. Every one who bid (like the sales in 
Chancery) was to give his name and address. The sum so 
bid and accepted was to be settled upon the bride, who 
was to have one week after the sale to make further 
inquiries ; at the expiration of such time they were to 
meet at the auction-room, when she was to decide upon 
the purchaser, and if the party did not fetch away the Lot 
at the end of another week he was to forfeit £50, and the 
sale null and void. The plan answered remarkably well ; 
there was a very spirited competition, the largest sum 
offered was £650, but she took one at a hundred less, and 
a most happy match it turned out. The one she selected 
bid all he was worth in the world ; he could do no more. 



189 



CONUNDRUM. 

What word is that with which 

Much fear is blended, 
But read it backwards, 

And the terror's ended ? 
Now find the word out if you can, 
The rear in this case is the van, 
Which bears affinity to this life's span, 



190 



AN ANCIENT MODE OF EMBOSSING. 

Take a stick, and lay it across the back, when it will 
raise a whale ; the likeness cannot be misunderstood, being 
accompanied with so much blubber. 



191 



MADRIGAL. 



Damon suing gentle Phyllis, 

For a while the maid was coy, 
Till he mentioned Amarillis, 

Who his hopes would ne'er destroy. 
Seeing that another loved him, 

And for fear of long delaying, 
Yielded to his soft endearments, 

To prevent his further straying. 



192 



RURAL FELICITY. 

Set to Music by W. L. Summers. 

— ♦ — 

The village bells, so blithe and gay, 

Did ring a merry peal, 
And usher'd in our wedding day, 

With sounds that o'er us steal. 

Each village lad and lassie too 

At early morn did rise, 
And brush'd away the pearly dew, 

To cull the flowers they prize. 

Then wove a wreathlet for my fair, 
To grace her face divine, 

With rustic art her nut-brown hair 
They deck'd at Flora's shrine. 

Then to the church we haste away, 

With spirits light as air, 
And carol forth a roundelay, 

In praises for the fair. 



193 



FURL THY BANNER. 

Set to Music by James Coward. 

Furl thy banner ; sweet Peace, sweet peace is come, 

The mighty war is o'er, the battle's won, 
And village bells will joyful ring, 
The dove an olive branch doth bring, 
Most welcome harbinger of spring ; 
And warriors to their homes returning, 
With ardour for their dear ones burning, 
Will find a solace for those cares, 
A just reward for him who dares. 

Furl thy banner, furl thy banner, guard it well ! 

We hope no further need, but who can tell ? 

Oh ! magic word, sweet peace, sweet peace, the charm 
Which gives the aching hearts so soft a balm, 
That now dispels all doubts and fears, 
Of absent friends dries up the tears, 
When fondly thus the news she hears, 



194 FURL THY BANNER. 

Then proudly calls to mind the strife, 
When he for country risk'd his life, 
And offers up those thanks to Heaven, 
A fervent prayer for mercies given. 

Furl thy banner, furl thy banner, long may it rest ! 

For Freedom's cause 'twas raised, and so was blest. 



195 



MADRIGAL. 

Set to Music by John Goss. 

Strephon sued and Strephon sigh'd, 
To gain the love of gentle Flora, 

But the maid as oft denied, 

Though he vow'd how he adored her. 

Say, my Flora, why thus flout me, 
And my hopes of bliss destroy, 

Can you for a moment doubt me, 
That I would your heart annoy % 

Strephon, I will tell thee, truly, 
Why I spurn your love sincere : 

Damon has my heart too surely, 
And his troth I hold most dear. 



o 2 



196 



ON THE EAST INDIAN REBELLION, 1857, 

WHEN" WOMEN AND CHILDREN WERE SAVAGELY MUTILATED AND 
MURDERED BY THE SEPOY REGIMENTS IN BENGAL. 



Unfurl the flag, for war returns, 
Rebellious India frights our land, 

And every British bosom burns, 

To meet those miscreants hand to hand. 

Gird on the sword, avenge each deed, 
Of slaughter'd friends by treachery slain, 

Whose carnage makes one's heart to bleed, 
And leaves on human race a stain. 

Those tender babes, those mothers dear, 
Crouching beneath the murderers' steel, 

For pity call with looks of fear ; 
No pity do those hell-hounds feel. 

In one fell swoop their souls are hurl'd 
From earth to heaven, no time for prayer, 

To find a solace in that world, 

Where dwells content from every care. 



197 



QUIDDITIES. 



The Diggings at California puts one in mind of certain 
games that are played. 

You begin with speculation, then whist, spades gene- 
rally being trumps ; a few get the odd trick, but a great 
many get loo'd. Pegging out a piece of ground is as un- 
certain as a game of cribbage, not knowing what you have 
in crib, which too often proves a bilk ; sometimes you get 
one for your nob, if you have been more successful than 
your neighbours. When you are on all fours, seeking what 
you may find, another comes behind and gives you a 
topper for luck, which you may justly term backgammon. 
But I will not put all down as bagatelle, for you may like 
billiards, get a game off the balls, and pocket the gold, if 
you are in the cue ; but I would rather recommend peace 
than a game of cannons. You must not think of the rest, 
but take care of yourself ; and when you have won the 
game, if they want you to play double or quits, it should 
be quit, and so take care of what you've got. 



198 



A CHIMNEY ON FIRE. 

Sitting in domestic bliss, 

By the fire so snug and cosy, 

Was my Friend ; his Wife and Miss 

Much inclined were to be dozy. 

The nerves olfactory were assail' d 

By a smell, so much like soot, 

" The flue's on fire," the wife bewail'd, 

When Hubby to the door soon cut. 

" You're right, my dear ! Now pray be quiet, 
It's nothing, soon I'll make all right," 
Then call'd to Bob, and gave his fiat, 
To mount the pot, and stop the light. 
No sooner was the order gave 
Than Bob ascended to the roof, 
His master's house to try and save, 
With bucket need no further proof. 



A CHIMNEY ON FIEE. 199 

A chimney smoked, down went the salt, 
Then on the top a blanket placed ; 
But Bob, it seems, was much in fault, 
A sad mistake in his great haste. 
A window now was open'd wide, 
From which a voice of anger came, 
" The Deil tak' you, that's not the pot ! " 
And call'd him something I'll not name. 



200 



AN ILL-USED WIFE. 



Dear Mary Ann, don't you remember Bill ? 
'Twas lie you know that used me very ill, 
I on and off with him was for six years, 
You for me at the time express'd great fears. 
Oh dear ! Oh dear ! I shall go crazy ! 

Your kind advice I wish I now had taken, 
Then should not be as now, almost forsaken ; 
For scarcely had he got me, than he show'd 
The cloven foot. Ah ! had I sooner know'd ! 
Oh dear, &c. 

When he leaves home he never tells me where 
He's going to, but I've found out his lair : 
To Betsy Mansell's there I saw him go, 
Which is the basis of my present woe. 
Oh dear, &c. 



AN ILL-USED WIFE. 201 

In peeping through a chink — oh, worse than bitters ! 
I saw him actually put on his slippers : 
That was enough for me, I hastened back, 
My mind, my dear, of course was on the rack. 
Oh dear, &c. 

When back he came it was past twelve o'clock ; 
I knew 'twas him, because I know'd his knock, 
I then began by saying, Arn't you late ? 
And nearly choked in keeping down my hate. 
Oh dear, &c. 

He merely said that time was made for slaves. 
Yes, I replied, and likewise made for knaves. 
He scowl'd and threaten' d, but I at him flew, 
Made a clean breast and told him all I knew. 
Oh dear, &c. 

He said as cold as ice, We'd better part ; 
So you can judge the wound he gave my heart. 
Let me but catch that minx, I '11 spoil her beauty, 
In doing which shall think it is my duty. 
Oh dear, &c. 

Now, Mary Ann, advise me what to do, 
As I have now no friend on earth but you : 
I'm told there is a court which grants redress 
To anyone like me, that's in distress. 
Oh dear, &c. 



202 AN ILL-USED WIFE, 

They say all men are bad, but mine's the worst, 
And have no doubt he was so from the first ; 
I'm glad the Bill has pass'd, I'll get divorced, 
To keep me like a lady he'll be forced. 
Oh dear, &c. 

My mind is topsy turvy, and I fear 
His vicious spirits will cause me my bier ; 
So write and say what course I ought to take, 
For very soon I 'm sure my heart will break. 
Oh dear, &c. 



203 



LUBIN AND MARY. 

A PASTORAL BALLAD. 

Maey turn thy looks of love 

Upon a humble youth, 
Who long has fondly strove to prove, 

His wishes and his truth. 

The little lambkins round them play'd, 

And frisk' d about the lawn, 
While Lubin press'd his lovely maid, 

Who beam'd like op'ning morn. 

The purling stream ran gently by, 

Beneath the shady grove, 
Where Lubin, breathing many a sigh, 

Retired to meet his love. 

The alcove with each pendant flower, 

By nature rear'cl so gay, 
With woodbines hanging o'er the bower, 

Where Lubin tuned his lay. 



204 LUBIN AND MARY. 

O Mary, gentle maid, he cried, 

Do give thy love consent, 
To be his tender loving bride, 

And make his heart content. 

The maiden's blush to him reveals, 
His joys are near complete ; 

When Hymen heard those joint appeals, 
And crown'd their bless'd retreat. 



205 



DOMESTIC BLISS. 

'TWAS not her form, 'twas not her face, 

Perfection though they be, 
Oh no, it was that winning grace, 

Which chain'd her heart to me. 
Her mental worth beyond compare, 

Alone would banish woe ; 
But when combined with charms so rare, 

What joys must ever flow ! 

For years we've lived, for years we've loved, 

Such bliss no one can tell, 
My early choice which since has proved, 

I knew — yes, knew her well, 
That no deceit could dwell within 

A breast so pure, so true, 
Great God, that gave me power to win 

A mind where virtue grew. 



206 



THE SECRET OF LIFE. 

Set to Music by Henry Leslie. 

They say this world is nought but woe, 

But that I do deny, 
I've ever found sweet pleasures flow, 
To make time smoothly fly. 
The sunny days, 
From Sol's bright rays, 
Oh how it glads the heart ! 
The flowers of spring, 
Sweet birds that sing, 
What joys do they impart ! 

True happiness you'll ever find, 

Yet distant may appear, 
If you but bring a gentle mind, 
To aid a cause so dear. 

Sweet Friendship's hours, 
Love's tranquil bowers, 



THE SECRET OF LIFE. 207 

Who would not wish to live 

To soothe the throes 

Of others' woes 1 
What pleasure 'tis to give ! 



THE END. 



BRADBURY AND EVANS, PRINTERS, WITITEFRTAR.S. 



